Book 42 - Thy Will Be Done
by GailDunn2
Summary: WARNING: CONTAINS ADULT THEMES AND SITUATIONS. The ill-fated trip to the mountain continues, with shocking consequences.
1. Prologue - Hopeless

Prologue - Hopeless

"Sam! Sammy!" Dean exclaimed. "What the hell?!"

Cas and Gail had been looking at each other, but they looked sharply at the brothers now. They'd heard the alarm in Dean's voice.

Another one of Chuck's Prophecies had come true, and the Doomsday Clock towards Armageddon was ticking louder and louder.

All three of them were gathered around Sam now, looking extremely concerned.

Dean was worried, but he was also angry. "What the hell, Sammy?" he repeated. "When were you gonna tell us about this?" He peered closer. "Is that a - ?"

"Werewolf," Sam said, grimacing. "That first night, when I went into the woods to...well, you know...I was jumped from behind. It was dark, and I only had my flashlight, so - "

"Well then, maybe it wasn't a werewolf," Cas said desperately. He couldn't believe it. They had the Book in their possession. All they had to do was open it, and everything could be better again. But they had to make the descent, first. All four of them.

"No, it was, Cas," Sam said glumly. "I'm sure it was. I wish I could say it was just a wild animal, but I'd be kidding myself. What I'm wondering is why it didn't just rip my throat out, though. I picked up a tree branch and swung it at the thing a few times, and it ran off."

Dean was examining the bite mark more closely now. "Are you sure, Sammy? It just looks like an animal bite, to me."

"Look at my eyes, Dean," Sam said to his brother. "I'm burning up. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin. I'm starting to turn. I didn't say anything, because I knew how important it was to get that Book."

Dean let out a frustrated breath. "OK, back the truck up a minute, here. You get bitten by a werewolf, you beat it off with a tree branch, and then you don't think to even mention it to us until we get to the top of the friggin' mountain?" he asked his brother incredulously.

Sam looked at Cas. "I know how important that Book is," he repeated. "I saw your face when we were talking about eschatology. We have to make the descent."

Gail was confused. "What the hell are you talking about? What does THAT have to do with anything?" She was starting to get a sinking feeling now. Did this have anything to do with the visions she had received from Brian? Was that what Cas wasn't telling her?

Cas was looking sheepish, and now, both Gail and Dean were regarding him suspiciously. "Cas? Got a minute?" Dean said sarcastically, frowning. He jerked his head away from Sam and rose to his feet. "You gonna be OK, there, Sammy? Or are you gonna sprout fur, and a tail?"

Sam looked up at his brother miserably, but he didn't say anything. Dean grabbed Cas by the sleeve of his coat, pulling his friend down the path and out of Sam's earshot. Gail shot Sam an indecisive glance, and then she scrambled after Cas and Dean.

Once they were down the path a ways, Dean turned angrily to Cas. "What in the holy hell is going on here?" the elder Winchester demanded of his Angel friend. "And don't say nothing, cause I swear, I will punch you right in the face."

Cas looked at Gail, but his wife was shaking her head. "Don't look at me," she told him. "I'm on Dean's side."

Dean's head swiveled to look at her. "You mean you don't know what's going on, either?" he asked Gail.

She frowned. "I thought I did." This was starting to feel like one of those frustrating types of situations, the ones where she'd thought she understood what the mission was, but Cas had a different agenda in mind. She wished she could say that this was the first time he'd pulled this on her. She really, really wished she could say that.

Gail was fed up. She huffed out a breath, looking at Dean. "We came here to get the Book of Life so that we could lock it up in Heaven and keep it away from the bad guys, but also so that we could use it to bring back everyone we've lost. We didn't say anything to any of you guys because we didn't want anybody to get their hopes up."

Dean let out a frustrated breath at that, watching the plumes of steam come out of his own mouth. Was it his imagination, or had the temperature dropped even further? So, THAT was what they had been hiding from him and Sam. He should have figured as much. But oddly enough, now that Dean was in the loop, he wasn't so angry any more. If that Book had the potential to do that, why the hell shouldn't they use it? Now all they had to do was worry about Sam. Dean was highly skeptical of his brother's story that he'd been bitten by a werewolf. Sammy didn't seem very monster-y to Dean. He just seemed sick. He'd probably been bitten by some wild animal or something, but because of the fever and because of what he and Sammy did, his mind had gone "werewolf" right away. Yeah. That was it. Dean was sure.

Gail glanced at Cas, then back at Dean. "And there's something else you should know," she told their friend, wincing inwardly. Cas was going to kill her. But this secrecy had to stop. They needed all the backup they could get, right now. "Brian is the Beast of the Apocalypse," Gail blurted out.

"Gail!" Cas said sharply, but Dean was looking at her with a baleful expression. "OK, what's the punchline? Cause I don't get it," he said, frowning at her.

But now, Gail was looking at Cas. "Look, I'm sorry if you're mad, but all this hiding things from each other crap has got to stop," Gail insisted. "We shouldn't be shutting these guys out. And YOU shouldn't be shutting ME out."

"What do you mean?" Cas asked her. As if that was going to do him any good.

"Eschatology has nothing to do with bringing our fallen family members back," she said pointedly. "When Sam and I went over to Becky's place, Brian touched me, and he said there was something you weren't telling me."

"Brian, the baby, told you," Dean said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "And Sam thinks he got bitten by a werewolf? What the hell kind of mountain plants did you guys roll up and smoke, while me and Cas were in that crater?"

All three of them were silent for a minute, exchanging looks. Then Cas sighed heavily. "Well, I don't know about what happened to Sam, but I'm sorry to say that Gail is right about Brian. Although, it was my intention that you would never find out," he added sternly, still staring at Gail.

"Well, you know what, Cas? Maybe that's not your call," Gail said tartly. "Brian is Dean's nephew, isn't he?"

Dean was looking at the Angels, open-mouthed. "You guys aren't kidding, are you? You really think that baby is some kind of a...?"

"Beast," Cas said bluntly. "The more commonly known term would be the anti-Christ. That is an oversimplification, but we can use it, if it's the term you're more comfortable with."

Dean barked out a laugh. "Comfortable?! Oh, yeah, let's all be comfortable when we're calling Sam's son the anti-Christ. Come on, Cas! You've gotta be kidding me with this!"

"Believe me, Dean, it gives me no pleasure to tell you this," Cas said, frowning.

"Oh, well, as long as you're not happy about it, that's all I needed to hear," Dean retorted.

"Don't yell at him," Gail cut in. "I'm the one who told you, anyway. And, since you're in the mood to be mad, I'll tell you the rest: Gabriel knows about Brian, too. There's a young kid out there somewhere, who's got Gabriel's blade, and he's supposed to kill Brian with it, before Brian reaches the age of ten. If he's successful, the Apocalypse will be off."

Dean was so dumbfounded now that he had no idea what to do. "Am I on one of those stupid prank shows, or did I just stumble into the plot of a really, really bad movie?" he yelled.

Cas was growing impatient. "In any event, it's the truth, but we have more pressing issues, right now. We have to descend the mountain, in order to open the Book. Do you think Sam will be able to climb down under his own power?"

Dean had been about to berate Cas again, but that question threw him. DID Dean think that Sam was well enough to climb down? Was it Sam who was in denial, or was it Dean? WAS Sam going to turn into a werewolf? The moon last night had been almost full. If that really was a werewolf bite and Sam started to turn before they got down to the forest floor, what were they supposed to do then?

"We'd better call Bobby," Dean said.

"Don't you think I already tried that?" Cas said irritably. "Gail and I have no powers here, and our frequencies are jammed. The Book has the ancient protections surrounding it. We have to make the descent, and we have to make it the human way. We have no choice."

Dean stood still for a moment, just staring off into space. This was almost too damn much for his brain to comprehend all at once. And the whole truth wasn't even out, yet.

Gail was looking sideways at her husband. "Well?" she said coolly.

Cas was being stubborn. "We should get back," he stated. "We need to pack up, and begin the descent." Then, incredibly, he turned his back on the two of them and walked away.

Gail stamped her foot on the hard-packed snow. "You know, it's a good thing that he found that Book of Life, because I'm gonna kill him," she fumed to Dean.

His lips twitched, but then he said, "Is Sam's kid really the Beast of the Apocalypse, Gail?"

She sighed. "I wish he wasn't, Dean. I really do. But he is, and we're going to have to figure out what to do about that when we get back. But right now, as much as it pains me to admit it, Cas is right. We have to get the hell off this mountain. Then, we can deal with everything else."

"OK, Mrs. Buzzkill," Dean said, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Let's go."

So they were pushing on, making the descent as quickly as they possibly could. It had taken them five and a half days to get to the summit, and Cas was hoping to cut that down to four, on the way down. Maybe even three. But even though Sam was doing the best he could, he and Dean were only human, and they needed food, and sleep.

That first night, Dean built a fire while Cas went down the path into the thicket of the forest, hoping to find a dik-dik to roast for the Winchesters' dinner. If he could find a larger one, they could wrap the leftover meat and snack on it tomorrow, while moving down the path.

"I'm sorry," Sam was apologizing to Dean and Gail, huddling by the fire with his sleeping bag wrapped around him. He alternated between fever and chills. "I know I'm slowing us down."

"You're doing the best you can, Sam," Gail said to him. "We know that."

Sam looked nervously up at the sky. Dean had said that he thought that Sam had just been bitten by some run-of-the-mill wild animal, and that his imagination was supplying the rest. But as the clouds parted and Sam looked at Gail's face bathed in the light of the full moon, he knew that Dean was wrong. Sam's hands curled into fists inside his sleeping bag. Were his fingernails growing? He was hungry. So hungry.

Cas came back up the path a little while later, carrying a mid-sized mountain antelope. He had already skinned it at the spot where he had killed it, to save time, and also to spare Gail the sight. But as he put the carcass down on the snow beside the fire, Cas realized he should probably have told his wife to avert her eyes. He still had to eviscerate the animal, and chop it into smaller pieces, so that it would cook evenly.

Ewwww. Cas was right. She really had no interest in looking at that. So she looked at Sam, who was watching Cas avidly. She supposed that kind of thing really wouldn't faze these guys much. It was funny; as many times as Gail had fought and killed with her blade by now, there were certain things that she still felt squeamish about. Go figure.

Cas saw the way that Sam was looking at what he was doing. Was it just the fact that he was hungry, or was there more to it than that? Sam's eyes looked red, although that might just be a trick of the firelight. Cas was using his Angel blade to butcher the animal, and while he was the first one to admit that he knew very little about monster lore, Cas was aware that an Angel blade could kill a werewolf.

Sam unzipped the sleeping bag and tossed it aside. He was burning up, now. Gail made an impatient noise and hurried to pick it up from the snow. Ten minutes from now, Sam's teeth would be chattering again. She folded it up and put it beside her on top of her and Cas's sleeping bag, which was on top of the plastic, protecting it from the snow. Sam shot her a grateful look.

"So, the Book of Life," Dean said conversationally. He needed something to occupy his brain right now, or he would go nuts. "It's kind of funny. All that time we thought we were looking for the Book of the Dead."

"Are we sure that doesn't exist?" Sam asked, semi-rhetorically. "I mean, if there's one, isn't there bound to be the other?"

Cas didn't look up from what he was doing. "Bobby stated that the red file said that the Book of the Dead is no longer in existence."

"If that's true, I guess it's just as well," Dean remarked. "That's all we would need. Some evil ass-face like Vincent with the Book of the Dead, calling up an evil army."

They all looked at him, and he shrugged. "Hey, I read once in a while too, you know."

Cas returned to the task at hand. He had almost finished. Maybe he would have a little meat himself, and encourage Gail to take some sustenance as well. He planned on making significant progress tomorrow. But he felt the need to say: "Dean is right. The Book of the Dead in the wrong hands would be a very effective counterpoint to the Book of Life. But the Book of Life was always intended to be the more benign of the two, as the name would suggest. Those who are brought forth from it can choose their own destinies, once revived. Even if they were brought back by an entity with evil intentions, they could still choose to be good."

"You said that Bobby definitely said that the Book of the Dead is toast, though, right?" Dean reiterated. "What happened to it?"

"He didn't say," Cas replied vaguely. "Perhaps it never even existed in the first place."

"Like H.P. Lovecraft," Sam stated, and Gail was nodding. "The Necronomicon," she added.

"Isn't that that thing people go to every year in San Diego, where they dress up like superheroes?" Dean asked, as Cas started to fashion a spit from a tree branch. He would skewer the pieces of meat, then roast them over the fire.

Gail and Sam laughed. "No, that's ComicCon," Sam told his brother. He appreciated the laugh, even though it had made his head hurt. "The Necronomicon is a fake grimoire, from a fictional novel. It's not real. But a surprising amount of people think it is, even to this day."

Dean had no other comment to make. Oh. A nerdy literary reference. He should have figured. Whatever. He knew what a grimoire was, of course. A spell book. Like Rowena's, that had gone missing from their -

He sat up straight. Rowena's spell book. Dean looked at Sam. Cas and Gail were insisting that Sam's baby was the Beast of the Apocalypse. If it was just Gail saying that, Dean might have just put it down to her and Frank's twisted sense of humour. Dean and Gail had sure called Becky a bunch of creative names when they'd first found out she was pregnant. But Cas was saying it too, and he'd had his Serious Angel Face on at the time. Now, the little guys in Dean's head, the ones who came up with the ideas, were hard at work. Becky had trapped Sam by getting pregnant, and now the Angels were saying that Brian was evil. Sam didn't even remember having done the deed, but then Becky had turned up pregnant, anyway. Plus, there was the mystery of Cas, Gail and Gabriel having been under the effects of that spell, the one they'd had to have Rowena remove. What was the common denominator, here? Becky. Frank had even said something about her maybe dosing the wine at his place, but then he had handcuffed Rowena at the bunker, and then they'd had that whole thing in the Caribbean. To Dean's recollection, none of them had ever confronted Becky about that night. Becky, Becky, Becky.

But Dean had to be careful, here. All Sam needed right now was a couple of clues, and before they knew it, he might figure out what his brother was thinking now. Dean was thinking that Becky was fooling around with Rowena's spell book, and since Becky wasn't exactly a Mensa member, she had probably screwed up somewhere along the line. Now Sam had some kind of evil-ass, Devil spawn child that was supposed to die before the age of ten, or else the world was gonna end? What the hell kind of b.s. was that? But if Becky had been the one who had dosed the Angels to think they were younger, the question was: Why?

"Hey Cas, can I talk to you for a minute?" Dean said to their friend.

Cas had just placed the spit over the fire. He looked up at Dean. The elder Winchester gestured to where they had been before, down the path.

"Could you keep an eye on this for me, my love?" Cas asked Gail, motioning to the meat on the spit.

She eyed both men, but Gail had seen Dean looking at Sam, and she could only imagine what was going through Sam's mind, watching all of these private conversations. If she raised a protest, Sam might get suspicious. As it was, the younger Winchester was darting glances at all three of them now.

Gail moved closer to the fire to watch over the food as Cas and Dean went down the path, out of her sight.

"What's going on?" Sam asked her. "Are you guys drawing straws to see who gets to be the one who has to kill me?"

"That's not even remotely funny," she said, frowning deeply.

Sam was silent for a minute, and then he said, "I'm hungry."

Gail looked at the meat, hanging over the fire. She had no idea what she was supposed to do with it. Was she supposed to be rotating it, or something? Or was it supposed to cook on one side for a bit, and then be turned over? Dammit. She should have asked Cas about that, before he left. She peered indecisively at the spit. Then she reached out to see if she could try to rotate the spit, but her hand was too close to the fire.

"Oww!" Gail exclaimed. She jerked her hand back from the flames, shaking it.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked her in a strange, almost strangled-sounding voice.

"I burned my finger," she complained. "Sorry, Sam. You're going to have to wait until Cas gets back. I don't know what I'm doing, here."

"Come here," he said to her.

Gail walked over to where he was sitting. "Are you OK, Sam? Do you need anything?" She got down to her knees beside him. He looked feverish, and there were beads of sweat on his forehead. She reached across him for the kerchief that was sitting beside him on the sleeping bag. "Here, why don't I - "

Sam grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap. "You smell so good," he said, burrowing his face into her neck.

At first, Gail thought he was just goofing around. "Hey! I told you, you have to wait for your roast antelope," she quipped, pulling away. "Antelope. Not Angel."

Sam's mouth opened, and incredibly, he snarled like an animal. His eyes were very red-rimmed, now. Oh, my God, Gail thought. He really was a werewolf! She tried to scramble off of his lap, but he was holding her tightly, and he was too strong.

"Let me go, Sam," Gail said to him, trying to sound calm.

"I can't," he replied. "I'm so hungry." He sniffed the air. "I can't stand it, Gail. I have to feed, or I'm going to die."

"No, you won't," she said, still struggling to get loose. "I'll go over there and get you some of that meat, right now."

"I need flesh," Sam said, baring his teeth again. He leaned forward and licked her cheek, panting like a dog.

Oh, geez. Gail was getting really scared now. He was going to bite her in a second, if she didn't do something. She had no powers here. So she did the only thing she could do: she lifted her head up and screamed, calling for help from Cas and Dean.

The two of them came running a moment later, and Gail felt herself being wrenched out of Sam's grasp. Cas pulled her away from Sam. "Are you all right?" he asked her frantically.

As Gail assured him that she was, Dean was struggling with his brother. "Sam. Sammy!" he exclaimed. Holy crap.

"Tie me up," Sam was saying through gritted teeth. "Restrain me. Please."

Cas let go of Gail and rushed to help Dean. The two men seized Sam by the arms and hauled him to his feet. He was struggling mightily now, even as he was imploring them to restrain him. Sam was fighting with himself as much as he was fighting with his brother and his best friend. He was hungry. He was scared. He was ravenous. He was glad that Gail had screamed when she did. But the blood was running so hot in his veins right now...

"Please go into Dean's backpack, and get out the climbing rope," Cas said to Gail. He and Dean muscled Sam over to a tree at the edge of the path as Gail ran over to Dean's backpack. She rummaged through it, got the rope, and ran over to the men.

They lashed Sam to the tree with the rope. "Tie me tighter," Sam told them, still struggling. They pulled tighter on the line, until they felt he was secured.

Dean stood back, looking at his brother. Wow. That had escalated quickly. But it was strange: Sam still didn't look like a werewolf to him. Sure, his brother was snarling and gnashing his teeth, but he didn't have fangs, or claws. What the hell?

Gail started to shake, and Cas put an arm around her. He threw Sam a glare and then steered Gail away from the tree, where Dean's brother was still struggling against the ropes.

"Dean," Cas growled. His friend looked at Sam once more, and then Dean followed after the couple.

Once they were out of earshot, Cas put both arms around Gail and held her. She was still trembling. Gail didn't know much about werewolves. She only knew that Sam had scared her. If Cas and Dean hadn't come to her rescue as quickly as they had, she felt sure that Sam would have ripped her throat out with his teeth. Gail was convinced that Sam was turning into a monster.

Cas was on the fence. He didn't know that much about werewolves, either. All he knew was that Sam was not going to be afforded another opportunity like that. He turned on Dean angrily. "Well, Dean?"

"Well, what?" Dean replied, frowning. Cas was looking at Dean like it was Dean's fault, somehow.

"Something has to be done about him," Cas said, pulling Gail even closer towards himself. "You saw what almost happened."

Dean sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, OK? I am, Gail. But you know Sam wouldn't do anything like that if he was in his right mind. It's that damn fever. We've gotta get him down off this mountain, and get him to a doctor."

"The fever?!" Cas said, incredulous. "Are you joking? He was going to bite her throat, Dean! What fever have you ever seen that would make someone do that?"

"You don't actually think he's turning into a werewolf, do you?" Dean asked his friend. He turned to Gail. "Do you?" he repeated.

She was uncomfortable. "I don't know, Dean. All I know is that I would have been in a lot of trouble if you guys hadn't gotten there so fast."

Cas's lips pursed. "He could have killed her, Dean. And don't look at me like that. You know what I mean."

"OK, OK. We'll leave him tied up for a while," Dean said, trying to placate his friends. "If that meat is cooked, I'll even hand-feed him some. Then he'll calm down a bit. You guys know what I'm like when I'm hungry, right? He must be the same."

"I can't believe you're being humorous about this," Cas said, exasperated. "How is tying him up supposed to be a solution? Eventually, he'll gain the strength to break free, if he does not already have it. And how are we supposed to make the descent like that? Unless you plan on carrying him the entire way."

"I'll talk to him, Cas. It'll be OK," Dean said. "Look, he's not a werewolf. He just thinks he is. It's psychosomatic." Gail looked at Dean in surprise, and he chuffed out a frustrated breath, which came out as a big puff of white steam. The night air was chilly up there, so close to the summit. Even so, Dean was starting to heat up, now. "You know what?" he continued. "Everybody needs to quit looking at me like I'm the village idiot every time I use words that are more than one syllable. Yes, I know what 'psychosomatic' means. I know what a lot of words mean. Just because I don't go around spouting them all the time doesn't mean I'm not smart. Bottom line is, Sammy thinks he was bitten by a werewolf, so he's acting like a werewolf. I'll have a talk with him."

"And? And then what, Dean?" Cas said, his tone sharp. His temper was starting to rise now, too. "Will he simply stop being aggressive, just because you told him not to be? I'm not willing to put Gail in that kind of jeopardy just on your say-so."

Dean sighed. "All right. Fine. So, what's YOUR great idea, then?"

Cas released Gail and stepped away from her. "This," he said, winding up and punching Dean in the face, as hard as he could.

Dean had gone down hard. Cas had taken him completely by surprise. Cas bent down and started to drag an unconscious Dean back to the campsite, with an anxious Gail following close behind.

"What are you doing, Cas?" she asked nervously.

"What should have been done in the first place," Cas responded, grunting with effort. Dean was quite heavy when he was unconscious. "I'm going to make sure that Sam doesn't get another opportunity to hurt you."

Oh, boy. Gail wasn't sure she liked the sound of that. Surely, he didn't mean...

But she never got the chance to find out. Because when they got back to the campsite, the ropes were on the ground, and Sam was gone.

Now, Cas had a dilemma on his hands. Should he grab his blade and go looking for Sam? What if he were to find him? Did Cas have the stomach to do what needed to be done?

He took his Angel blade out of his pocket. "I need to go after him, before he gets too far away. If he doubles back, scream for me, as loud and as long as you can," Cas said to Gail. He stood there hesitating, for one more moment. Then he disappeared into the forest.

Gail's heart was beating like a hammer in her chest. She dropped to her knees beside Dean's unconscious form and started to shake him with both of her hands. "Dean! Dean! Wake up!" she shouted frantically. "I think Cas is going to kill Sam!"

Cas was moving both as quickly and as quietly as he could through the forest. He was seriously considering what he should do if he found Sam. If Sam was a werewolf, he could not be allowed to live. Yes. Cas should just euthanize him now, before the situation got even worse. Sam could have ripped Gail's throat out. Cas knew that Sam was Dean's priority, and he understood why that was so. But Gail was Cas's priority, and he meant to see to it that she would remain unharmed. Sam's son was the Beast of the Apocalypse, and now Sam was a beast, too. Dean would plead and argue that his brother should be spared, but Dean was...

Wait a moment. Was this the death that Chuck had foretold should happen? Was this the test that God had set out for Castiel? Could Sam's death be the one to end the cycle?

Dean was finally starting to stir, and as he gained consciousness, he was startled to see that Gail was looming over him, yelling and shaking him like a rag doll.

"Hey, whoa. Whoa, hey," Dean said, trying to pry her off of him. "What the hell, Gail?"

"Sam escaped," she told him. "Cas went after him."

Dean sat up, rubbing his face. "What the ever-loving crap?" Then, he remembered. "Cas really clocked me one," he complained, working his jaw. "I hate to tell you this, but next time I see him, I'm gonna owe him one. Where is he, anyway?"

Just as Gail was opening her mouth to repeat that Cas had gone into the woods to look for Sam, maybe even to kill him, Cas stumbled back out of the forest. His face and hands were bloody, and so was his Angel blade.

Oh my God, Gail thought. Her heart dropped into her stomach. No. It was too late.

"Cas, what did you do?" Dean said, rising to his feet slowly.

Then they heard a crashing sound from behind Cas, and he stepped aside. An older woman wearing a fur-lined parka came out of the woods, followed by two black men, who were carrying Sam on a litter.

"Put him down by the fire, gentlemen," the woman said briskly. She looked at a stunned Dean and Gail, then took off one of her gloves and extended her hand, walking towards them. "Dr. Laura Redfern, at your service."

"Is he OK?" Dean said, shaking with the woman reflexively. He nodded his head towards Sam.

"That's your brother, correct?" Dr. Redfern said, shaking hands with Gail.

"Yeah," Dean said, rushing towards the spot where Sam was laying. He glared at Cas on his way by, but Cas said nothing.

"He stumbled into our camp, ranting and raving," the doctor said matter-of-factly, as Dean knelt beside his brother. "Sam. His name is Sam," Dean said, dazed. What was happening, here? Sam was still breathing, and he didn't have a speck of blood on him.

Dr. Redfern saw the expressions on their faces, and she smiled. "I recognized the symptoms of acute altitude sickness in your brother - I mean, Sam - straight away. So, I had my porters hold him down because he was thrashing around, and I gave him a sedative. Then I got some antibiotic serum into him, and gave him some oxygen. As I was doing that, your friend arrived."

"Why are you all bloody?" Gail asked Cas. He wiped his face with his sleeve. "I'm sorry, my love," he said to her. Then he wiped his blade on his pants, and stashed it in his pocket.

"Your husband comes prepared," Dr. Redfern said to Gail, nodding her approval. "While my porters and I were tending to Sam, we were attacked by a wild boar. Cas came out of nowhere and killed the animal. We owe him our lives."

Gail let out a huge sigh of relief. Now she was shaking again. "I thought..." she started to say, and Cas embraced her. "I know, my darling. It's all right. It'll be all right." Dean was looking up at his Angel friend now, and Cas gave him a subtle shake of the head. The two of them had been such close friends for so long that Dean knew exactly what Cas was trying to say. He would never have been able to bring himself to kill Sam, no matter what the consequences. Right now, they would just have to concentrate on getting Sam well, and then move on from there.

"So, it looks like pork for dinner, unless you've already eaten?" Dr. Redfern said cheerily, looking dubiously at their dying fire. One of the porters stoked it, and the other one grabbed the spit with the now-burned antelope meat on it, casting it aside. "I'll go back and get some, Ma'am," he said to her. "It should be just about ready by now."

"Very good," she said, nodding. "Please bring the rice, and the wine, too. These people look like they could use a good meal." She took a seat by the fire. "Cas tells me you're descending from the mountain. It's a good thing you are, because Sam's fever is very high. You should keep a watch on him throughout the night, just in case he's still delusional. But he should be fine. We'll give him some rest tonight, and I'll loan you my helicopter to take all of you down to the jungle floor in the morning."

"Your helicopter?" Gail echoed.

Dr. Redfern was smiling again. "Yes. I'm doing a TV show for the International Channel, on adventure destinations. We're filming our climbing of Kilimanjaro right now, in fact. My porters and I were encamped for the night, along with the television show's crew members. We'll be carrying on to the summit tomorrow. It was foolhardy for the four of you to attempt the climb yourselves, without a guide, at the very least." Then she smiled at Cas. "Even though you seem to have a Crocodile Dundee on your team. Maybe we should put YOU on a show, Cas."

Now Gail smiled. "I'd watch the hell out of that show, along with about a million other women," she quipped. "Maybe we should get your business card."

Cas smiled at his wife, giving her a squeeze. "Dr. Redfern is an anthropologist, who works closely with wildlife conservation programs," he told Gail and Dean, who had moved back to his sleeping bag to sit down, now that he knew that Sam was okay.

"But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy some nice pork and rice, and a good Reisling, every now and then," Laura said, as her porters came back with the food and wine. "Please, help yourselves."

Dean didn't need to be told twice. Now that he knew everything was all right with Sam, he was ravenous. He dished himself up a big plateful from the pot that one of the porters brought. The other poured wine into plastic cups, passing them out to everyone.

Gail glanced at Sam as the doctor chuckled again. "It looks like he's down for the count," the older woman remarked. "Don't worry; we have plenty, if he wakes up hungry." She shook her head slowly, sipping from her cup of wine. "You should have heard all the funny things he was saying," she went on with good humour. "'Werewolf', indeed."

Dean just about choked on his food. Of course, he had been shoveling it in by the forkful. No offense to Cas, but this stuff was way better than those dick-things.

But Dr. Redfern was still smiling. "As an anthropologist, I've studied lycanthropy, along with many other things in lore," she told them, "and I can unequivocally say that Sam is no werewolf. It was just the high fever, making him imagine things. He must be a big horror movie fan."

Dean nodded, smirking. "Yeah. Something like that," he commented. Now it was Dean's turn to communicate non-verbally with Cas: I told you so, the elder Winchester's look said.

Laura chuckled again. "He was also raving about Demons, and monsters, and Angels. Angels! Can you imagine? Now that, I'd like to see."

Cas's lips twitched. "So would I," he said. He took a small bite from the plate of food he had taken for himself and Gail to share, thinking that it would be bad manners to refuse.

"I think YOU'RE the Angel," Gail said to the woman. "Thank you for helping Sam the way you did."

Laura gave her a brief nod in acknowledgement. But: "Nonsense," she said. "We have to look out for each other in this world. You don't have to be an anthropologist to know that once kindness and compassion are gone, that will truly be the end of the human race."

Cas had been about to take a sip of his wine, but his hand paused at that remark. He was pretty sure it had been just an expression, but it had chilled him, nonetheless. He hadn't killed Sam. What were the repercussions going to be for that decision?

Dr. Redfern finished her wine. "Well, cheerio. My men and I will go back to our camp now, and bed down for the night. You can keep the food, and the rest of the wine. We'll see you in the morning. If Sam needs some more medicine before we send you down, I'll administer it to him then. Goodnight." Then she and her porters, who had been standing by quietly, left the campsite, heading back to where they'd come from.

Dean waited a couple of minutes for them to be out of earshot, and then he looked at the Angels, breathing a huge sigh of relief. "Holy crap, Cas. You scared me. I really thought you..." He glanced down at Sam, who was still resting peacefully. He couldn't even say it.

"No, Dean," Cas said soberly. "I could never kill Sam." He saw no reason to mention that he had very nearly decided to do exactly that. But Sam wasn't a werewolf at all, was he? Just a very ill human being.

"Why'd you punch my lights out, then?" Dean said, rubbing his face. "You're gonna have to pay my next dental bill."

Oh. Right. "I just wanted you to be safe, Dean," Cas replied. "Just in case Sam WAS a werewolf, I didn't want the two of you to get into a fight."

Dean stared at him skeptically for a moment. But then, he stretched and yawned. "Whatever. Do you guys mind keeping an eye on Sleeping Beauty, there? I need to get some shuteye. Boy, am I glad she's got a helicopter. I'm sick of being up here like some kind of a mountain goat. Goodnight, you guys." He picked up his sleeping bag and shuffled off to his tent. Before he went inside, Dean picked up Sam's sleeping bag and covered his brother with it.

Gail smiled as Dean crept into his tent. She looked at Cas. "I'm so glad you found her, sweetie. She's the first lucky break we've had in a long time. Maybe our Father really does want us to use the Book."

Cas kissed his wife softly on the forehead, but he winced inwardly. He didn't necessarily share the same viewpoint. But, Castiel had a lot more experience in these matters than did his sweet, optimistic Gail.

The Angels kept watch over Sam for the rest of the night, and when he stirred in the morning, Gail brought him a thermos of water. Cas followed closely behind, just in case. He helped Sam sit up, and Gail handed their friend the thermos filled with water. Sam took it with both hands and drank thirstily.

"I'm so sorry, Gail," Sam said. "I'm okay now; or at least, I'm better. I promise."

Dean came out of his tent once he'd heard Sam's voice. "Hey, Sammy. Growing those fangs yet?" he razzed his brother.

Sam flushed. "Look, everybody, I'm really sorry," he said to the trio. "It must have been the fever." He looked around. "Is that doctor still here? I'd like to thank her."

"What doctor?" Dean said wickedly. Gail clucked her tongue. "Come on, Dean. That's not funny," she chided him.

Dean shrugged, grinning. "Once we get off this stupid mountain, you'll think it is."

"I'm going to go over to Dr. Redfern's campsite and tell her that Sam is awake," Cas announced. "I'd like her to examine you."

"While you're doing that, I'll start packing our bag," Gail said to Cas, moving towards their sleeping bag, which was still on the ground. She rolled it up, put it in the plastic, and then brought it over to where Cas's knapsack was. She crouched down to put the sleeping bag on the straps in back of the knapsack. But then, she froze. The knapsack was unzipped, and the Book of Life was gone.

A couple of minutes later, one of Dr. Redfern's porters from the night before emerged from the forest. Gail was frantic now, running all around the campsite. She'd asked Dean, and even Sam, if they had taken it for any reason, and of course, they'd said no. She was looking around wildly, but there weren't a lot of places it could be. She knew Cas didn't have it with him, and they had been here all night. Where on earth could it be?

"Looking for this?" the porter said, holding up the Book.

Just then, Cas came out of the woods. He glared at the porter. "What are you?" he said to the man.

"Cas, what the hell is going on here?" Dean said warily.

"They're dead," Cas blurted out. "Dr. Redfern and her crew are all dead." He looked at the entity who was holding the Book. "What have you done?" he asked angrily.

"What was supposed to have been done, Castiel," the entity replied. It waved the Book. "Oh, that's right. The ancient protections are preventing you from seeing my true identity. My name is Heathcliff. I'm a Reaper."

"Why did you take those people?" Cas growled.

"I didn't, Castiel," the Reaper said casually. "YOU did. They were supposed to have been killed by that wild boar last night. My boss knows what you're planning to do with this Book, and he's not happy about it."

Cas looked at Heathcliff, puzzled. "Your boss? Who would that be?"

Heathcliff laughed derisively. "Now, I know you're not stupid, so the only reason you'd be asking me that question is if you were trying to stall-"

Suddenly, the Reaper gasped. A bright light emanated from his eyes and mouth as Gail stabbed him from behind with her Angel blade. While he had been focused on Cas and Dean, she had crept up around his flank side and then sunk her knife in him, as hard and as deep as she could. Truthfully, she hadn't even known if it would even work. Gail had never killed a Reaper before.

But Castiel had, so he knew something that Gail didn't. He rushed forward and breathed the light into himself, before it dissipated. Then he picked up the Book before it hit the snow, as Heathcliff fell to his knees. "I'll look forward to seeing you there," he said to Castiel, and then the Reaper fell on his face, dead.

"Quickly!" Cas said to his companions. "I can take us all down, but I can only hold his power for a moment!" He rushed over to where Sam was, still laying on the litter. "Dean! Grab the other end! Gail! Hold onto my arm, tight!" Dean bent down to grab his knapsack. "Leave it!" Cas instructed. "There isn't time!"

He and Dean picked up the litter that Sam was on as Cas tucked the Book of Life into the crook of his arm. Gail wrapped her hands around Cas's arm, holding on tight.

An instant later, they disappeared from the mountain.

The quartet reappeared on the forest floor at the base of the mountain. Dean stumbled, but he had held onto his end of the litter. Unfortunately, Cas dropped his, and Sam went rolling off of it, onto the ground. Cas still had the Book tucked into his arm and it came loose, but Gail caught it before it hit the forest floor.

Cas let out a frustrated breath. He'd been hoping to get them all to the bunker, but a Reaper's essence was like lightning in a bottle, and he had been lucky to be able to accomplish even this much.

But just as Cas was congratulating himself, two figures appeared in front of the quartet.

Sam shook his head vigorously. He was slowly getting up from his unceremonious dumping. Dr. Redfern's medicine had worked quite well, or so he'd thought. But he had to be hallucinating now.

Metatron was sitting behind a desk that had materialized just as suddenly as he had, and he was looking down at a sheaf of papers, ignoring the four of them. He was muttering aloud, though. Something about "POV", and "character development".

And the other figure was Death. He was looking as dour as usual. "Well, well," he said dryly. "Why am I not surprised?" He held out his free hand; his usual walking stick was in the other. "I'll take my Book back, now."

Gail's eyes were wide. "YOUR Book?" she blurted out.

"Yes. It's mine," he confirmed. "I can only imagine what kind of havoc you were planning to wreak with it. How many times do I have to tell you, Castiel, that you cannot mess around with the natural order of things? Consider your old friend Metatron, here. He took it upon himself to try to change the way that things are supposed to be. Now, his quill is his weapon, and the paper is his blank slate."

"I stand by what I did to Castiel and Gail," Metatron said aloud, but he was still just shuffling the papers, holding his quill in his hand, not looking up at any of them. "She had to become a stronger character, and he had to be humbled."

"All right, all right," Death said with a trace of irritation in his voice. "You have served your purpose, if not your sentence." He waved his walking stick, and the Scribe and his desk disappeared. Death looked at Gail once more. "My Book," he said imperiously. "I won't ask again."

"Hand the Book to me," Cas said to Gail, holding out his hand to her. But he didn't dare take his eyes off of Death. When the ancient entity decided to act, it would be swift, and decisive. "It was my idea," Cas said firmly. "The others aren't involved. The punishment will be mine, and mine alone."

"How noble of you, Castiel," Death said in an even tone. "But, whether or not I believe you remains to be seen. I will never understand why it is that you think you can just bypass any long-standing system that you please, in order to get what you want."

"I'm not doing it for myself," Cas argued. He had a hand on the Book now, but Gail was clutching onto it with both hands, refusing to let Cas take it from her. She was terrified of what Death would do to him, if he did.

"You're making the grand assumption that I care what your motives are," Death said in that dry tone that he often used to convey sarcasm. "You're the reason I have to conceal these types of items in those sorts of places. You, and these Winchesters. And now, your wife has joined your little band of miscreants, as well." He held out his hand again. "I'll have my Book, now."

The words were out of Gail's mouth before she could stop herself. "You said you weren't going to ask again, so I thought I was in the clear."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Cas, but Dean smirked, despite himself. She was probably gonna get them all killed in a minute, but then at least he could die laughing.

Death was looking at her balefully. "Do you think this is amusing?"

Now, both Dean and Sam were smirking. They couldn't help it. Had Death ever heard of Joe Pesci, they wondered?

But Castiel was terror-stricken. "Please forgive my wife. She has an unfortunate habit of using humour in situations where it is not always appropriate."

Death moved closer to Gail, staring at her intently. "Whether or not that is the case, my point remains: the four of you seem to think that the rules of the natural order don't apply to you. But, as you have seen over the past year or so in your own family, life will find a way, and so will death, of course." He looked at Sam. "You and your brother should be dead by now, a dozen times over. But you insist on continuing to circumvent the natural order of things. Therefore, Sam had to kill his brother, to rid the world of Lucifer. Dean was supposed to have remained in Hell, when he was first dragged there, kicking and screaming, by those hellhounds. Therefore, as it turned out, it was you, Sam, who ended up in the cage, being driven insane by Lucifer."

Death's eyes shifted back to Cas and Gail. "You were supposed to have been killed by your birth mother, when you were still a toddler," he said to Gail. "But inexplicably, she changed her mind when she was in that house with you and Frank's mother. You received far more years than you should have. But as it turned out, that was a punishment, not a reward. Now, when you lose everyone you love, it will be far, far worse."

"And, you?" Death continued, saving his final salvos for Cas. "You have been a thorn in my side for untold millennia. No matter what the rule, you have found a way to break it. No matter how many times you are told that something must be the way it should be, you always seem to want to do the opposite. You feel as if you are hard done by, don't you, Castiel? All of the suffering you have been through over the course of time, all of the pain, could be avoided, if you would just accept that there is a reason for the course of events to unfold as they do, and keep your nose out of them."

"If I see something that is wrong, I feel the need to act," Cas said defiantly. "Some things are worth the risk."

"Like Germany?" Death said, his lips pursing tightly.

"Yes. Like Germany," Cas retorted. "I'm sorry if that skewed the numbers in your ledger book, or whatever you feel is important to you. But these are human lives we are talking about. Something had to be done."

Death half-shrugged. "And so, something was," he said succinctly.

"Let me have one page," Cas begged, and Gail was looking curiously at her husband now. Cas had mentioned Germany to her before, but she had no idea what he was talking about. And now, he had a tone to his voice she had never heard before.

"Please," Cas continued. "I entreat Thee. I have learned my lesson. I swear that I have. I'll go back and do everything the way it was supposed to have been done in the first place. Please. I promise."

Death looked at him speculatively. He would ultimately benefit greatly if Castiel did as he was promising to do now. But, could he be trusted? That was very much in question. However, no matter what Castiel endeavoured to do, Death was one of the handful of ancient beings who would remain ever constant, no matter how far back Castiel chose to go.

So Death gave a slight nod of acquiescence and Cas said, "Thank you." Then he looked at Gail. She still had both hands on the Book of Life, refusing to relinquish it.

"Give the Book to him. Please," Cas said to his wife. She looked at him, wide-eyed again. Was he nuts? What was going on, here? But their frequency was still on the fritz, and Cas was looking at her calmly. "Please," he repeated.

She didn't want to do it. She really didn't want to do it. But, did she have a choice? Death could twitch one finger, and all four of them would be reduced to ashes. Cas obviously had something up his sleeve. He was supposed to go back in time and fix something he'd messed up on. Maybe even more than one thing. If he did that, Death would be appeased, and they could still get out of this situation alive. But if whatever Cas had to do would make Death happy, how horrible was what Cas had to do? It chilled her blood just to think about it.

Gail handed the Book to Death. He took it, looked at it for a moment, and then ran his hand over the cover. The embossed gold letters began to glow, and once all of the letters were outlined, he pulled the Book open.

Gail and the Winchesters had grimaced, expecting to hear a loud, thunderous noise. Or maybe something would come jumping out of the thing, or flying out of it, like the world's oldest, scariest, magical genie.

But nothing happened. It was an ancient Book, but it was just a book. Death eyed Cas once more, and then he carefully tore out the first page of the Book and extended it.

Cas stepped forward, and Death said, "As you may be aware, the Overleaf is already gone. Because you dispatched Raguel so efficiently, I have decided to grant your plea. And, because this is the Appendix, you may use it three times. Make sure that you are judicious. I will stay here with your human friends, until you return."

"Sam's really sick - " Dean began to say, and Death gave him an indulgent look. He extended his free hand and touched Sam's forehead with one long finger. The younger Winchester stood up straight, completely cured.

Something dawned on Cas now. "My HUMAN friends?" he echoed, glancing at Gail.

Death's eyebrow raised. "I presumed that I would not be able to dissuade you from taking your wife with you." He looked at Gail. "I am granting you a very large favour. Do not abuse it," Death added sternly. He handed the page to Cas. "Do your duty, and we will see you here when you are done."

Sam and Dean stood there, open-mouthed. How long was this going to take?

"Time is merely fleeting," Death said, as if they had spoken aloud.

Cas took Gail's hand, holding it tightly. Then he spoke a phrase in the ancient language, and then the Angels were gone.


	2. Beginning, Middle, End

BEGINNING - YESTERDAY'S CHILD

"You look weary, my husband," Eve said to Adam. "Sit down, and I'll pour you a glass of wine. Oh, and Abel and Sarah brought some cheese for you to try."

"Another new type of cheese?" Adam said, smiling.

"You'll like this, Father," Sarah said, bringing him a tray. "We call it 'brie'. It's a soft cheese that you can eat by itself, or with bread."

"Or with apples," Abel said, and Sarah rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. "Your son is forever inventing new food combinations," she said to her father-in-law. "He feeds me lamb, with fruit from the orchard." She went back to where Abel was sitting, and he pulled her onto his lap. "I thought you liked that," he said, kissing his wife tenderly on the cheek.

Sarah smiled mischievously. "It's not the food that I like, it's the method of delivery," she remarked.

Eve laughed merrily as she brought the jug of wine and four goblets into the sitting area of her and Adam's cottage. She loved her daughter-in-law. Sarah was a perfect match for Abel. Their younger son had been extremely shy and introverted before Sarah had come into the region. As soon as she had, Abel had fallen in love with Sarah, and she with him, and Adam and Eve had welcomed their daughter-in-law warmly. God Himself had performed their wedding ceremony. Cain had stood up proudly beside his younger brother, and Cain's wife Hekebah had served as Sarah's Matron, because Sarah had no family of her own.

Now, all three couples were blissfully happy. Cain and Hekebah had a boy and a girl, and they were expecting their third child in a couple of months. Usually, they would all get together for a family meal at least once a week, but Hekebah tired easily with her advanced pregnancy. So Sarah would take food to her sister-in-law, and help with the children, and Abel and Cain would tend to the animals and do repairs at their respective homes and farm enclosures. Sometimes, Sarah and Abel would make up stories to tell Cain's two young children, and Cain and his wife would chime in, providing different voices for the characters. After family dinners, Adam would sometimes bring out a fermented beverage he had been experimenting with, and he and his sons would partake as the women would smile indulgently at their husbands.

There had never been any serpent, nor any forbidden fruit tree. Nor had there ever been any sibling rivalry between Cain and Abel. The brothers were good friends, and there was no reason for Cain to be jealous of Abel, because Cain had a loving wife, and they had their children to love, too.

Abel and Sarah were childless, but they were happy that way. God had blessed them with each other, and with a happy, healthy and burgeoning family in their nieces and nephews. Cain and Hekebah would go on to have eight children, and Adam and Eve would live on for hundreds of years, serving as a shining beacon of love to their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

At night, once the sheep had settled, Castiel and Gail would bed down for the night. Unless the weather was inclement, they would usually sleep on down feather blankets, under the stars. And they would sleep, deeply and soundly, every night. When they had first gotten there, Gail had told Cas that she would like to eat and sleep, just like the rest of their family.

There had been some discussion about staying indefinitely. How could they not consider it? This was truly Paradise; a world without murder, and jealousy, and pain, and death. Well, for the most part, at least. Eventually, Adam and Eve would be called to their reward, and the generations of family they had sired would miss them very much. But as far as crime, and hate, and intolerance, there was none. There was only love, and acceptance. One of Crowley's sons had married a Nubian, and one of his daughters had married a woman from the next village, and God the Father had officiated at both weddings with an equal amount of pride.

But Cas and Gail knew that they would have to move on from this place. Castiel had been unable to resist coming here with her, and seeing what their lives would have been like had they been allowed to be here together from the very Beginning. Death had said that he could use the Book three times, and he really only needed to go to Germany once. This trip had been a bonus. With all that they had been through lately, Cas had wanted Gail to experience true Paradise, if only for a short while. In actual fact, although it had been several years that they had been here, it would only seem like a minute or two to Sam and Dean.

"Have you been happy here, 'Sarah'?" Cas asked Gail, as they cuddled under the blanket. It was another cool night, just the way the couple liked it.

"Are you kidding?" she replied with a half-smile. "I may just wrap my arms around the nearest fruit tree, and refuse to go."

The couple smiled at each other, and Gail kissed Cas on the side of his face. "I love you, Cas...I mean, Abel," she amended. Then, she nudged him. "Hey, why'd you name me Sarah?"

Cas shrugged, giving her a gentle squeeze. "You were Sarah before, remember? Truthfully, it was the first Biblical-sounding name I could think of. Unless you wanted to be Nebuchadnezzar."

Gail laughed and laughed. She had always thought that Cas had a good sense of humour, but it tended to go overshadowed in their modern family. Or maybe she should amend that to: what was left of their family. But the couple had had lots of opportunity to talk here, because when the stars came out at night, there wasn't much else to do. So he had assured her that he could make everything right, and she believed him. If they could get their family members back in the current era, Cas could fix what he needed to fix in the past, and then, the current era would be Paradise.

There was one other thing that they could do when the stars came out and the sheep were dozing, and they had been doing a lot of that, too. With all of the deaths in their family and all of the missions they'd been on, the couple's romantic life had been severely lacking.

Cas was caressing Gail lightly under the blanket as she was still giggling over his joke. "I guess I should consider myself lucky that I even have a name at all," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't a lot of Old Testament women just referred to as 'so-and-so's wife'?"

He was kissing her neck now. "Maybe we should simply refer to me as 'Gail's husband', then," Cas said softly. "That's all I've ever wanted to be, anyway."

"You say the most romantic things," she said. She took his hand and kissed it, licking the knuckle. "Too bad more of those men didn't think like you do. I don't think a lot of them even thought of women as people, back then." She sighed. "I wonder how things would have changed throughout history if we had all been a big, happy family in Genesis, like we are right now."

"Unfortunately, we will never get the opportunity to find out," Cas said, sighing.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to make you sad," Gail apologized. "We've been so happy here. I want us to leave on a happy memory."

"And so we will," Cas replied, smiling again. He couldn't fault her for expressing herself, and the way she felt. He loved it when they shared their hopes, their dreams, and their feelings in general. That was all that he had ever wanted. Instead, he had been given a lonely and emotionless existence for the most part, punctuated only by brief bursts of colour when Gail had been allowed to wander into his sphere of existence. Was it any wonder that he had wanted her with him from the very beginning, this time?

Cas kissed her on the mouth, and his hand went between her legs. Gail had already had them open for him, and he was touching her lightly. She moved closer to him, and he understood that she wanted him to hurry, so he did. Anything she wanted. They were being given a rare opportunity now, and he didn't intend to miss a moment of it.

A minute later, Gail said, "Cas, I need you now," and he was glad, because he didn't know how much longer he could stand not being a part of her. So he entered her slowly, and when the two of them started to move together, all he could say was how much he loved her, and how much he would always love her.

And then, in the morning, they were gone.

MIDDLE - ANGEL IN HER KISS

Gail was sitting beside Sam at the bunker table, looking at his laptop screen. He was scrolling through the locations of the Demon hangouts that he and Dean knew about.

"I gotta go see a man about a horse," Dean told them. He left the room as Sam rolled his eyes. "Believe me, you don't want to know," he said to Gail.

A few minutes later, the door at the top of the stairs creaked open, and Gail looked up to see Cas coming down the stairs. But, even though he was deathly ill, he hurried down.

"Oh, hey, Cas. Good to see you. It's been a while," Dean said, walking by his friend on his way to the coffee machine.

But Cas was looking right at Gail, and as they made eye contact, she stood slowly from her chair. Cas strode around the library table, and Gail was already walking around to meet him halfway. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him, and she put her arms around his neck.

Gail had a split second to wonder how freaked out Sam and Dean were going to be about this, and she smiled through the kiss as Cas's mouth came down on hers and he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, pulling her body close to him. Then Cas's tongue touched her lips, and she opened her mouth to his.

Sam and Dean were looking at the two of them, astonished. Cas and Gail were the only ones who knew who they were together in these scenarios. Just as they had been Abel and Sarah to the first Biblical family, as far as the Winchesters were concerned, their new human acquaintance and their long-time Angel friend had never met each other before.

Eventually, the kiss broke, and Gail and Cas looked at the brothers, amused at their expressions. "What's the matter? Haven't you ever heard of love at first sight?" Cas said, and Gail laughed merrily. She loved her husband any way she could get him, but Past Cas was turning out to be a much more relaxed, funny Cas than she was used to. Maybe when they got back to the present timeline, she would have a talk with the guys about letting Cas get a word in edgewise, every once in a while.

"Excuse us, for a minute," Cas said to the Winchesters. "We're going to my room. We'll be back in a few minutes. Maybe an hour."

He linked hands with Gail, and led her towards the hallway. She was laughing again, picturing the brothers' looks of bewilderment. They went down the corridor to his room, and because this was the timeline when they had first met, Cas stumbled over to the bed when they got there. He was low on his Grace. But Gail knew exactly what to do for him, because she'd done it before. She rushed across the hall to the bathroom and prepared the cure, just as she had that night. But this time, it didn't seem gross, because she loved Cas. And this time when she brought him the glass of water, he drank it down eagerly, because he loved Gail.

Then Cas took her in his arms and said, "If I had all of this to do all over again, I would never, ever let you go. I would have done everything differently. Everything."

But even as Cas was saying it, a frisson of doubt was running through him. He had Gail with him now, and the Winchesters waiting for them back in Africa. But if he did as he was supposed to do, what assurance did Cas have that Death would let Castiel keep them, this time?

Cas looked at Gail, and she was giving him the doe eyes now. Death was not going to take pity on them. An ancient entity like him cared nothing for love, and laughter, and light. Death just wanted the accounts balanced. Cas kept thinking that if he improved himself throughout the centuries, that circumstances would change for the better. But every single time he'd tried, everything went horribly wrong. This wasn't about Germany at all. It was about Castiel. And, tragically, it was about Gail, too.

END - NEVER WITHOUT YOU

Cas and Gail sat there on the bed in his old room at the bunker, hands clasped together. He had just told her that he would never let go of her.

But if he held to that promise now, what would happen to them all? Could Cas fix everything that had gone wrong in all of their lives? Or maybe the more important question was: SHOULD he?

He looked away from Gail now, because it was too difficult to think of what he had to think of next while he was looking at her sweet face. Cas had to put his emotions aside and think like the army General he used to be. The problem was not Death, or Castiel, or what the price of tea was in England. The problem wasn't even what Castiel had opted to do in Germany. It was love. Love was like a disease, a virus that infected your blood, and your vessel, and your brain, so badly that it rendered you incapable of logical thought and sensible judgement. If individuals did not love, they could not suffer the intense and exquisite pain of having their loved ones ripped away from them. It was a simple enough equation to understand. Castiel may not agree with Stu on the interpretation of numbers, but one thing the two men could agree on was that numbers didn't lie. The common denominator here was obvious. Cas had considered pulling the trigger on the biggest and most heartbreaking decision of his existence before, but he had lacked the courage. But he had the courage now, because it was fueled with love, and compassion.

Cas looked at his wife. He gently disengaged one of his hands from hers and touched her face. "You and I will never meet," he said, and he moved his hand to her forehead.

Gail gasped. "No, Cas! Don't - "

But that was all she was able to get out. Cas modified her memory, and then he disappeared.

Gail was sitting in the back of the Impala as Dean hung up his cell phone. He turned to Sam. "He says he's not coming," he told his brother. "He can't. He's too sick."

"Too sick?" Sam said, puzzled. "Cas is an Angel. How can he be sick?"

"An Angel?" Gail said, startled. "Your friend is an Angel?"

"Oh, way to go, Sammy," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "We just met this girl. Why don't you tell her all about the Men of Letters, too, while you're at it?"

"If Cas was gonna come over to help us, she would have found out what he was anyway, Dean," Sam pointed out.

"Well, he's not coming," Dean said bluntly. "I don't know what's going on with him these days. Half the time he's AWOL, and the other half of the time it sounds like he's got the plague, or something. Can Angels be psychosomatic?"

Gail's head snapped up. Where had she heard that word before, recently?

"Ooooh, that's a big word for you," Sam teased his older brother.

Dean was annoyed. "You know, I wish everybody would quit talking to me like I'm the village idiot when I use words that are more than one syllable," he fumed. "Just because I didn't go to a fancy college to learn how to talk down to people..."

The brothers began to snipe at each other, but Gail was no longer paying attention. Dean had said the same thing to her and Cas on Kilimanjaro, about Sam.

"It's a good thing he's got that page from the Book of Life, because I'm going to kill him," Gail murmured aloud. But nonetheless, she was starting to smile. Now she knew why this had felt so weird. Her other half was missing. Obviously, Cas had forgotten that God the Father had given Gail the power to overcome the memory modifications she had experienced in the past. Either that, or his heart hadn't really been in it. She hoped that was the case. Gail understood why he had done that, and the part of her that didn't want to kick his Angelic ass thought it had been a really sweet and self-sacrificing gesture. But there was no way. If he thought he was getting away with this, he was nuts.

"You guys are in luck," she told the Winchesters. "I'm a healer. If you'll take me to where your friend is, I can cure him."

Dean had been skeptical, but after Gail had persuaded Sam she was on the level by healing a small cut on his arm, the brothers became convinced. So Dean drove to the motel where Cas was holed up and pounded on the door until Cas opened it.

The Angel had a thick blanket around his shoulders, and his hair was sticking up in about seven different directions. Gail had to bite her cheeks to keep from laughing. She reminded herself that Sam and Dean had no idea what was going on here; she was a stranger to them, and Cas was like their brother. They would think she was crazy if she started to laugh, accusing her husband of having "sex hair".

Cas was ill, of course, because the two of them had never met at the bunker. But that didn't matter. Dean strode into the room and said, "This is Gail. She's a healer. She told us she can cure you of whatever the hell it is you've got going on, here. So sit down, shut up, and do what she says."

Cas smiled sadly at Gail, and she gave him a toothy grin. It was a pity that this incarnation of hers was a human, or else she would have sent him a message over their frequency. Something along the lines of "nana-nana-boo-boo".

She moved swiftly past him to the desk in the room. There were a couple of water glasses sitting on top of it. She grabbed one. "I'll be right back."

When Gail returned with the glass of water, she sat down on the bed next to Cas. They made eye contact, and then Cas gave her an almost imperceptible nod. He drank the glass of water down. Then he handed the glass back to her, and their hands touched for a moment. Gail started to smile. Now, they could -

Cas touched her forehead, modifying her memory again.

Dammit! Gail was getting really pissed off, now. Cas was gonna get it good, the next time she got her hands on him. Had he forgotten that he was only the second-most stubborn person in the known universe? He ought to know; he was married to the first.

But this time, Cas tried to get cute. If "cute" meant being a pain in the butt, that was. He told Dean that he was too sick to receive visitors, and he refused to give his friend the location of the new motel to which he had moved.

Gail let out a frustrated breath. "Give me that," she said, yoinking the cell phone out of Dean's hand.

"Look, Cas," Gail said angrily into the phone. "I need your help. My brother Frank is being held captive by Demons. Crowley's having him tortured right now, and he's going to die a slow, painful death. Do you want that on your conscience?"

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. Wow. This girl didn't mess around, did she? But Dean was smirking a little, too. She might not know Cas, but she sure knew how to push his buttons.

Sure enough, Cas sighed, and gave them his location. He didn't want that to happen to Frank. He loved Frank. Gail had known exactly what to say to get Cas to capitulate.

This time, when Gail brought out the glass of water, she stood out of Cas's reach. She even handed the glass to Sam to give to Cas, just in case. And after Cas drank it, she said, "You know, I used to have this boyfriend. He thought he was really, really clever. And he was, for a while. But he forgot that I'm smart too, and I'm stubborn as hell. He tried pushing me away, but I told him he was wasting his time, and mine. And I reminded him that we had a couple of friends who would be getting mighty anxious to see us, back at the place where we just saw them."

The Winchesters were looking at her and Cas, thoroughly bewildered. Gail was trying not to look at the expressions on their faces. She was getting fed up with Cas, but also, in another way, it was too funny. Poor Sam and Dean. Every time they went through this whole song and dance, it was a new experience for the brothers. Of course they would be confused. But she couldn't help herself. Cas needed to stop it.

He seemed to realize that, too. Cas looked at the brothers. "Please excuse us for a moment," he said to them.

"Why, what did you do?" Sam joked, and Cas's lips twitched. Dean did a double-take. Had Cas actually understood that was supposed to be a joke? Maybe they were finally rubbing off on him.

The brothers shrugged. "OK, well, I would ask you what the hell is going on here, but I know you're just gonna give us some b.s. Angel crap," Dean said impatiently. "But don't take too long. We've gotta find this Frank guy before those Demons make mincemeat out of him."

Sam and Dean left the room and as the door closed behind them, Gail winced. "I wish he would quit saying that," she remarked. "It hurts just as much every time he does."

Cas got off the bed and started to move toward Gail, but she backed up and held up her hands. "Stop, right there," she said quickly. "That's close enough."

Cas did smile, now. He couldn't help it. She was just so cute.

"You're going to have to stop this, sweetie," she told him. "It's getting ridiculous. Poor Sam and Dean. They have no idea what's going on. And the current Sam and Dean are waiting for us back in Africa, with only Death for company. We've got to rescue them from that." She sighed. "Look, Cas, I understand what you're trying to do, here. But you can just forget it. I'm not going to let go of you."

"I was trying to let go of YOU," Cas said softly.

"Well, now that we've seen how well THAT'S worked out for you, I need to ask you a question," Gail said to her husband. "You once told me that love trumps everything. Do you still believe that?" He was silent, so she said again, "Tell me you still believe that, Cas. Please."

He let out a breath. "Yes, of course I believe that. That's why I wanted you to be without me," Cas said soberly. "Think of all the suffering you've undergone, ever since you had the misfortune to fall in love with me. Camelot, the New World, that time in New York when I couldn't get to you in time...Or how about now, when we've lost family member after family member, until the grief has almost made us lose our minds? Love is a disease, Gail. I'M a disease. If you would let me do this, all of that pain and suffering would just go away."

Gail was beside herself. "If I could trust you enough to get closer to you right now, I would smack you!" she exclaimed. "Don't you dare stand there and say that to me! After all the time we've been together, don't you dare stand there and call yourself a disease! Our love isn't a disease, Cas. It's the best thing that ever happened to either one of us, in our entire miserable lives. I don't care about any of that stuff, Cas. Bring it on. I would go through all of that again, for the rest of eternity. Do you know why? Because it doesn't even come close to the pain and suffering I would go through if I wasn't with you. When we got married, you vowed to obey me, and we joke about that from time to time. But, I'll tell you what: I'm invoking that, right now. I'm ordering you to stop, Cas. Just stop. It doesn't matter what you try to do, I'll fight you every time. You're always saying you want to see me happy. Well, this is the way to do it."

She was a little out of breath from her big speech now, and she was still angry, too. Cas recognized that look on her face. Like any husband who had ever been skating on thin ice with his wife, Cas knew that it was time to do some serious groveling.

"Do you remember when we went to see that Rom woman?" he said to Gail. "The one who told us our fortunes, when we were in Romania, looking for the Hell Tablet?" he started to say.

"Oh, yeah. I think I might remember something about that," Gail said in a sarcastic tone. "That was way back, when you and I were together. Correction: back when you WANTED us to be together."

Cas frowned. He had really hurt her. Now he felt bad. Which was the whole point, of course. Gail did understand where he had been coming from, but he couldn't be allowed to get away with it.

"Look, Cas," she said, sighing with frustration. "You and I are married. We even had two weddings! Either we're united, or we're not. We were happy, Cas. Weren't we? Despite all of the turmoil, all of the crap that was thrown our way, weren't we happy?"

"Yes," Cas answered immediately. "Of course we were. I'm sorry, my love. I'll use the page, and I'll go back and do it all over again. I'll do it perfectly, this time. You'll see. We'll be happy again, I promise. I'll see to it, personally."

"Yeah?" she said skeptically. "Just like you were going to see to it this time? And the time before that, and the time before that? Look, Cas, I get it. I really do. I get the urge to go back, too, sometimes, and erase all our mistakes. Make everything perfect. Believe me, I do. But nothing is ever going to be just perfect, and if you keep on doing this, you'll end up with nothing. Not even me. Please, Cas. Please. Promise me you'll stop. I can't take this anymore."

Cas relented. How could he not? This whole thing had been about making sure that Gail would not be unhappy. But she was certainly unhappy right now, wasn't she? And truthfully, he had been inconsolable without her. Every time he had done the re-set and found himself holed up at a cheap motel, deathly ill and alone, Cas had been miserable, and filled with self-doubt. Was this really the right thing to do? If it was, why did he feel like he had done something very, very wrong?

Luckily, his wife was extremely obstinate, unwilling to accept the amended status quo. Cas lifted his head and said, "This is our Prologue. This, right here. I will now take the Appendix page, and use it for the third time, to go back to Germany. And this time, my other and decidedly better half will be coming with me."

Cas reached his hand out to Gail. "We will have to go back to Nazi Germany, to fix my mistake." Then, he sighed. "Because you insist on saddling yourself with me, I feel like I owe it to you to explain a couple of things, first. You and I will be on the wrong side of the equation, when we get there. We will be German, members of the Reich."

Gail's heart clenched painfully. Maybe she should have left well enough alone. They were going to be Nazis? Now, she was terrified. She looked at his hand, but she didn't take it. Not yet.

"What are you going back there to do, Cas?" Gail asked him warily.

Suddenly, Dean pounded on the motel room door. "Cas! Let's go! Chop chop!" he shouted. "We've got a Hunter to rescue!"

No, you don't, Gail thought sadly. But, in a few more years, you and Sam are going to have a very close friend. Another brother. And if Cas and I can work out some kind of a deal going forward, who knows what else might happen?

"There's no time to explain right now," Cas said to her. "Do you trust me?"

She let out a breath. "Yes, of course I trust you, Cas," Gail told him. She took his hand.


	3. Vignette - Unjust

VIGNETTE - UNJUST

The Angels reappeared in a small room that looked like an office, and Gail's head felt a little dizzy from the rapid change in location, time, and circumstance. Cas reached out to steady her.

"I realize it's a bit disconcerting," he said to his wife. "Take a moment."

The first thing she noticed was that he was dressed in a single-breasted suit, and he had a fedora hat on his head. Then Gail looked down at herself. She was in a floral print dress, she had a string of pearls around her neck, and she was wearing a fur stole around her shoulders, of all things. What the - ?

Cas smiled faintly at the look on her face. "We're a wealthy couple," he said, by way of explanation. "My name is Viktor, and you are Trudy. I picked that name because it means 'adored warrior'. And our last name is Schafer, which means 'shepherd'."

Okie-dokie. She looked around. "Where are we?"

Cas took Gail by the shoulders and gently turned her around. She could see that there was a plate-glass window there, so she moved to it and saw that the window overlooked a factory floor. There were men and women working on various machines, and bustling up and down the aisles between work stations.

"We own this factory, and those are our employees," Cas said from behind her.

Gail turned back around to look at him. "What's going on here, Cas?"

He sighed. "When I was here before, I was a single man, of course. You and I hadn't met, yet. But since you're here with me this time, I've made up an identity for you, too. Do you remember when Henri made his comment about going back in time, right before we left for Saqqara?"

Gail was totally thrown, now. Cas had been evasive before, but now he was taking it to a whole new level. What the hell was he - She gasped. Now, she did remember. Cas had been pretty upset about it at the time. "He was talking about going back in time, and killing Hitler," she said, shocked. "Is that what we're here to do?"

"No," Cas replied, frowning. "That's what I'm here NOT to do."

Gail shook her head vigorously. "What?!" she exclaimed. "I must have heard you wrong."

"I'm sorry to say that you didn't," Cas told her grimly. "When I was here before, I DID kill Hitler. But, I was not supposed to."

She was appalled. "What do you mean, you weren't supposed to?"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, there was a ghost of a smile playing on Cas's lips. "That's what I said too, at the time," he told his wife. "How could killing the most evil mass murderer in history not be the right thing to do? But, regardless, I was not supposed to do it, but I did it, anyway, and history was completely altered."

Gail was stunned. She had no idea what to say. This sounded like the plot of a really bad movie. If she didn't know better, she would almost swear that he was making this up. But now it was starting to dawn on her why Death was so sour-faced every time he saw Cas.

She felt nauseous. They had come back in time, not to kill Hitler, but to let him live?

"Please sit down, my love," Cas said quietly. "I'll explain."

She sat in the chair opposite Cas as he sank into the chair behind the desk. After a moment, he tossed his hat on the desktop, and then he began:

"Because I took it upon myself to kill Hitler when I did, it was the United States and Russia who ended up going to war with each other. Nuclear war."

Gail's mouth dropped open. "Cas!" she said. "Are you serious?"

"Do you think that I would joke about such a thing?" he said, his eyes flashing bright blue for a moment. Then he sighed again. "I'm sorry, Gail. I know this must be very difficult for you. But you must understand that it's very difficult for me, as well. I defied our Father's instructions, and I made the situation worse. Much, much worse."

Cas took a deep breath. "Because World War II was aborted due to Hitler's sudden death, the USA and Russia engaged in a hot war, not a cold one. There was no United Nations formed, nor a European Common Market. Because there were no allies, there was no harmony. No cooperation. The entire world was at war. Because England hadn't suffered the protracted hostilities with Germany that they were supposed to have, that country flourished economically. But their people were adamant that they wanted no part of war, so Great Britain held itself completely neutral from any conflict. There was no International Human Rights Agreement, forged as a consequence of Hitler's atrocities during the war. Therefore, when the rest of Europe and Asia went to war with each other, there were countless war crimes committed, and no way to check the perpetrators. The level of carnage and violent crimes were unparalleled. This went on and on, for years afterwards. There are many qualities to treasure when it comes to human beings, but their appetite for war and cruelty should never be underestimated."

Cas was silent for another moment, and then, he made himself continue. "There was no Vietnam War, because Asia was too busy licking their wounds and rebuilding, after the lengthy hostilities with Europe. So, a young man named John Winchester never joined the Marine Corps, and he never went to war there. He stayed in Normal, Illinois. And yes, that was actually the name of the town where he was born," Cas added, a touch of humour in his voice. He knew his wife. "You can see where this narrative is leading, I'm sure. John Winchester married a woman, and they had children, but he never went to Kansas, he never met Mary Campbell, and Sam and Dean Winchester were never born."

So, that was it. Gail was nodding now. Finally, they were getting to the bottom line. Her head was spinning. She was right; they were in a really bad science fiction movie. But unfortunately, that bad movie was their life.

A lot of things were becoming clear to Gail now. This was why Cas was so prickly about time travel. This was why he always felt as if he was being punished. It was because he WAS being punished. Cas had rebelled against Heaven a number of times before, in a number of different ways, but seemingly, he had really gone off book on this one. But who could ever say that his decision had been the wrong one?

Cas wasn't done yet, though. Gail could tell by the look on his face that there was more bad news. "Let me guess," she said, as calmly as she could. "That means I was never born, either."

"Oh, no. You were," Cas said. He sat back in his chair, sighing heavily. "You were," he repeated.

Then Cas lapsed into silence, as Gail waited for him to continue. But when he did, he said something odd.

"When you were angry with me back at the motel, I was speaking about the Rom woman, who read our cards in Romania. Rupa. Do you remember?" Cas asked his wife.

"Do I remember what?" Gail countered dryly. "Being mad at you, or the Rom woman?"

Cas's lips twitched. She really needed to stop doing that to him. While he blessed her for it, Gail had no idea of the gravity of the situation they were discussing right now. She thought she did, but she didn't.

"Among her other remarks, Rupa stated that I can often make things worse, by doing what it is that I think is the right thing to do," Cas forged on. "Knowing what you know now, would you say that is a fair assessment?"

Gail sighed. "I guess so, if you want to paint things in such broad strokes," she replied. "But - "

"You WERE born, to Vincent and Placida," Cas blurted out. "You were still one of a set of twins, but your brother was Raymond, their only son together in the present timeline. When the two of you had reached a mature enough age, your parents were going to have you perform the ritual that would make you both immortal, thereby cementing the lineage in perpetuity."

Gail was appalled. "But...we were brother and sister," she remarked, with a sickened expression on her face. It was funny that she just accepted what Cas was telling her now as a matter of routine. She guessed the revelation that she had been Rowena and Vincent's daughter and Crowley's twin sister back in the Old World had inured her to this kind of thing, to a certain extent. But, thankfully, she and Crowley had never - Yuk.

"Do you think that matters to a man like Vincent?" Cas said sharply. Then, he instantly regretted his tone. It wasn't Gail's fault. None of this was Gail's fault.

But before he could apologize again, Gail held up her hand. "Please finish your story, so that I can go somewhere and throw up," she said dryly.

Cas nodded. "Before the ritual could be performed, Raymond killed you, so that he would be the sole heir."

Of course. Of course that was what had happened. The bile rose even higher in Gail's throat now. Instead of being angry, Vincent had probably put a bucket underneath his daughter to catch her blood, then clapped Raymond on the back. Maybe even given his son a cigar. What a sweet, father-son bonding moment that would have been for them.

"Well, I guess the silver lining is that you and I have something else in common now," Gail said after a moment. "We've both been murdered by our own brother."

Cas let out a breath. That much was true, in a way, but: "There is one difference. We're here to make sure that never happens. All of the employees in this factory we own are Jewish, and you and I are members in good standing of the Nazi party. And as abhorrent as that may be, there is worse to come. In a short while, officers from the SS will descend upon us here, and they will try to round up the workers on the floor. I will prevent them from doing so, saying that the workers are making weapons for the Reich. That's a lie, of course, but we have some sample bombs and other munitions in various spots on the factory floor. That should be enough to convince them. In fact, I will tell them that I have to hire even more employees, because business is so good."

Gail continued to stare at her husband. That didn't sound so bad, but she knew Cas. He was just softening her up for the blow that was yet to come.

And then, it came: "The SS men will bring us some more workers, and they will be bruised, and emaciated. There will be women who have been violated by Hitler's men, and children who have been beaten, for non-existent transgressions. I'll tell the soldiers that I will take them all, because I can put them all to use. I can make a tidy profit by using such cheap labour. I don't even have to pay them, or feed them very much. And if any of them should die of starvation - " His voice broke for a moment. Then he cleared his throat, and then he went on, "If any of them should die of starvation, well, they're only cattle, aren't they? Eminently replaceable. Then the officers will smile, and we will smile, and then we will be issued an invitation to an exclusive soiree. It is a fund-raiser for the Reich, which Hitler himself is going to attend, to thank us for all of our hard work."

Cas had vomited that last part out, in a torrent of words. Then he was mute, but the expression on his face made it very evident how repulsed he was feeling by the entire scenario. So was she, of course. "That voodoo ritual is starting to look better and better all the time," she quipped.

Cas didn't smile, but his face relaxed a bit. "When I was here before, I was a single man," he told her. "Other than that, everything I just described to you actually did occur. I went to the fund-raiser, and I ate and drank and made small talk with every high-ranking Nazi official who was there. I even shook Adolf Hitler's hand when we were introduced, and I praised him and the Reich effusively. And then later on, when he went into the restroom, there were two armed guards posted outside the door. He was a very paranoid man. Not that he didn't have reason to be: there had already been several attempts on his life before that day. But the armed guards were no problem for me. I had already made up my mind. To kill a dragon, you have to cut off its head, as the saying goes. So I popped into the restroom and took him by surprise. I severed his vocal cords first, so he couldn't cry out. Then, I dispatched him quickly. He was a cowardly little man, who mounted no defense whatsoever. Much like all of those poor unfortunates whose deaths were his responsibility. Then I left him there for his so-called security detail to find. And then, I had to face God's wrath."

Gail had thought that her capacity to be shocked was practically non-existent by now, but she had been wrong. "What did He do?" she asked him in a hushed voice.

"You don't need to hear the details," her husband answered evasively. "Suffice it to say that 'the wrath of God' is not just an expression. So, He put it all back, the way it was supposed to be. Then He admonished me, saying that I couldn't just go ahead and do anything I wanted. I had been instructed to save the lives of those people who worked in the factory. Nothing more. I told Father that I was aware of my instructions, but what that man was doing, and what he stood for, was the worst sort of pure Evil in existence. I was an Angel of the Lord, a humble servant for Good. Hitler represented all that was wrong with the human race. Wasn't eradicating that evil my duty? But, Father was angry. He said that He knew what kind of individual Hitler was. Of course He did. But some events had to be allowed to take their course, in order to enable subsequent events to fall into place. I didn't understand, so He picked me up by the scruff of my neck, and then He showed me. God showed me everything that happened following that event. Every death. Every atrocity. Hitler's war had been aborted, but the deaths were only just beginning. And now, here we are. When Henri brought up the subject of going back in time and killing Hitler, he inadvertently touched a nerve. I didn't ever want anyone to find out about these events."

"But, Cas..." Gail felt so badly for her husband that she could barely form a coherent sentence. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. You did what any decent person with a conscience would do. How were you supposed to know how things would turn out? I would think that our Father could have cut you some slack on that one. I mean, come on!"

"He DID cut me some slack," Cas assured her. "That first time."

Gail's heart sank. Oh, no. He couldn't possibly mean...

Cas was nodding. His darling Gail knew him so well. "The Father was merciful. He restored everything to to the way it had been, and He allowed me to return to the factory. As the expression goes, God had hit the re-set button. He left me with strict instructions to do my duty, and I assured Him that I would. And then I went to the party, and then I killed Hitler anyway, because any scenario in which he was allowed to live while millions died was unacceptable to me." Cas smiled grimly. "That's what I said to our Father, when He showed up a moment later. And this time, He came prepared. He told me that I had just sealed the fate of anyone who would ever have the misfortune of caring about me, at any point in my future existence. I fell to my knees and begged His forgiveness, but He was unmoved. I told Him I had learned my lesson, and that I would obey His Word without question, from that date on. So He told me that I most certainly would, and then He took me back to Heaven and conscripted me to the Army, under a taskmaster by the name of General Santorum. None of us ever did learn his first name, if he even had one. He made Hitler look like an amateur. His methods were cruel and sadistic, and he employed torture for those who did not fall into line. Rumour had it that Santorum had been present at every major battle that history had ever seen, making note of the strategies that both sides employed. It was he who indoctrinated me. He shaped and conditioned me to be the cruel, emotionless warrior that I became. That was the crux of our Father's punishment."

Gail bolted from her chair and ran around the desk. "Oh, sweetie," she said, opening her arms to embrace him.

Cas remained seated as Gail pulled him to her. He put his arms around her waist and she cradled his head, comforting him. She'd never heard something so horribly heartbreaking in her entire existence. It was no wonder that Cas was the way he was. How could God be so cruel?

Cas took his wife's comfort, soaking it up like a sponge. It had been very difficult for him to talk about this, even after all these years. There were so many emotions surrounding what had happened that had remained unexpressed, or that had been beaten and tortured out of him. Castiel had been molded to conform, and he'd had no one to blame but himself. He had been stubborn and recalcitrant. Did he presume to think he knew better than the Almighty Father?

So he had felt ashamed, bowing his head to the punishment God had meted out as his due. But there had always been that one little spark of independent thought that they had never been able to completely extinguish. That spark was who Cas really was, when he was with the ones he loved.

Cas allowed himself a few minutes more, and then he gently disengaged himself from Gail's embrace. "So now, you know the whole story," he said to her.

Gail couldn't believe it. She just couldn't believe it. She took his hands in hers and held them tightly. "I have a lot to say about what you just told me, but I'll save most of it for another time. However, I want to go on record right now by saying that what our Father did to you really stinks." Cas said nothing, but he drew in a sharp breath. "I don't care, Cas. Somebody has to say it," Gail continued. "What the hell? It might as well be me. Hey, I'm a Voodoo Princess, aren't I? Vincent's daughter. That's some pair of fathers we have, aren't they? At the moment, I'm not sure which one of them is worse."

She took a deep, shaky breath. "But at least you're going to be able to save some lives, here at the factory. At least that's something. Dean once said to me that there's one thing he had to accept: You can't save them all. How many is enough? What you were sent here to do feels like it pales in comparison, I know, but it's still going to be a success, Cas. Who knows who those people out there will be, when they grow up? Generations from now, there may be one child born who will change the world for the better. It's not a numbers game, sweetie. Every life is important; even just one. And, as a side note, I've never loved you more, or been prouder of you, than I am right now."

Cas stood abruptly and took her in his arms. She had no idea how much her loving words of support meant to him. "The soldiers will be here in just a few minutes," Cas told his wife softly. "If you like, you can wait here in the office. I will still be required to attend the party tonight, but I can tell them you are ill." He looked into her eyes. "There's no reason you should have to deal with these reprehensible individuals. That's my responsibility."

"No, Cas. We're married. That means it's OUR responsibility," Gail said soberly. "How much of MY crap have you had to nurse me through, over the years? How many times have you held me while I've cried about all the piddly little things that have gone wrong in my life? Ohhh, nobody loved me in school. Waaah, Frank's mom threw away my stuffed animals. And here you were, all this time, dealing with..." She couldn't continue. Now she was getting mad at herself, because she was on the verge of crying again. But this time, the tears were for him.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Gail sniffled back her tears. She nodded at her husband.

"Come," Cas said tersely.

A short, middle-aged woman opened the door. "Excuse me, Herr Schafer, Frau Schafer. There are officers from the Reich here to see the owner."

Gail gave Cas's hand a gentle squeeze. "Tell them we'll be right there," she answered for her husband.

The Angels drew in deep breaths, composed themselves, and left the office to speak to Hitler's men.


	4. Chapter 1 - Deja Vu (All Over Again)

Chapter 1 - Deja Vu (All Over Again)

"So that's what we did," Gail was telling Sam and Dean now. "We asked the soldiers for as many workers as they could bring us, and then we dressed up, and went to that party."

It was just the three of them, for the moment. When Gail and Cas had returned to the bottom of Kilimanjaro, Death had told Castiel he needed to have a private conversation with him. Then he had touched Cas with his walking stick, and the two men had disappeared, along with the Book of Life, which Death still held in his hand.

Gail had figured it would be okay to tell the Winchesters where she and Cas had gone, but she went a little light on the details. She was pretty sure she knew what their reaction was going to be. That had been hers, too, until she had found out the full truth. But she wanted to emphasize the humanitarian aspects of what she and Cas had done at the factory, because she wanted the brothers to see that there were some positive takeaways, as well.

"Cas told the SS men that we were making munitions for the Reich, and the more workers we had, the better that production would be. But the more workers we got, the more it cost for their upkeep. Cas told the officers he wasn't paying the employees, but he was, of course. But they still needed food, and clothing, and medicine, and we didn't want them spending their money on that because we knew they would need it, once we had to leave. So, since we weren't going to be there that long, I started selling everything of value that we had on hand. Paintings, jewelry, my furs...While Cas was at the factory taking care of everyone and making sure we didn't get found out whenever the soldiers came, I went to Berlin. We had to deal with black marketeers for some of the medicines, and stuff. Oh, and some of the sleaziest people were some of the richest ones, who would gouge the crap out of you. And not all of them were Germans, either. Some of them were Jews, selling out their own people. Guys, it was disgusting. But, on the bright side: When we left, we had about a thousand employees, and some of the women were pregnant. We closed the factory, and took all of the workers far enough away that the Reich couldn't touch them."

"But you let Hitler live," Dean said pointedly.

And, there it was. "I told Cas this, and I'll tell you, too," Gail said with an edge to her voice, "it's not a numbers game, Dean. Besides, Cas was there to do what he was instructed to do. I was just there this time to provide moral support."

"Moral support?" Sam echoed, incredulous. "I can't believe you're using that word in this context."

Gail was seething now. "You weren't there. You don't know."

"Yeah, you're right. We don't know. We don't know how you could have gone to a party with those people," Sam said, frowning.

"Did you meet Hitler, too?" Dean added snarkily. "Did you tell him some of your jokes?"

"You'd better shut up," Gail warned him.

"Oh, yeah? What if I don't? What are you gonna do? Have Cas go back in time and not kill me, too?" Dean retorted.

She'd had it. "You guys need to stop. You have no idea what God put Cas through. We can only imagine what they did to him, to make him conform. It wasn't his choice! He wanted to kill Hitler. In fact, he did. He did it twice, even though God expressly told him NOT to. And then, they stuck him in the Army, where he was forced into compliance. At the very least. I'm pretty sure that he was tortured, too. Although I haven't asked him for any details, because frankly, I don't want to know. He was conditioned to believe that the concept of choice and the use of Free Will was wrong. The courage it must have taken for him to rebel against that kind of coercion and indoctrination is just..." Gail was starting to tear up, now. She didn't want to give away Cas's secrets. It wasn't her place to tell these guys everything her husband had told her about the punishments he'd undergone in Heaven. But she had a point to make:

"Look, I know you guys have always given him a hard time about 'Angel crap', and for the longest time, I agreed with you," Gail said earnestly. "But I get it now. I can finally see it from Cas's point of view. Of course he sided with Heaven and his so-called Brothers and Sisters at first. But he was brainwashed, persecuted, vilified, and used as a scapegoat, by so many of them. He survived, though, and he stood his ground, because he knew there was a better way. And now WE'RE his family. Don't you dare judge him. Don't you dare."

All three of them were quiet, and then Cas said softly, "Please, don't be upset, Gail. I probably should have come clean to all of you about this a long time ago." He and Death had just reappeared from wherever they'd been. Death stood by, expressionless, still holding the Book.

Cas looked at the brothers. "I know what you're thinking," he said to them. "You're wondering how on earth I could let Hitler live. And the answer is: because, sometimes, the hard decisions have to be made. Because, losing my family is intolerable to me. And, because being the only one left behind for all of eternity is absolute agony. Allow me to show you."

Cas reached out and touched each brother on the forehead to show them the world after it had been decimated by the global wars that had lasted for decades. Everywhere they looked, it was a total wasteland.

"I was one of the only ones who survived," Cas's voice said in their heads. Now they could see him walking slowly through the rubble. Picking up giant slabs of concrete and tossing them aside, as if he was looking for something. Or someone, maybe. "God kept me around while all of you fell, so that I would suffer the longest. The sweet release of death would have been far more merciful."

Then the image faded, and Sam and Dean were back on the forest floor at the base of Mount Kilimanjaro, blinking in shock from what they had just seen and heard.

"Cas, man..." Dean said around the massive lump in his throat. "I'm sorry. We had no idea."

"Well, this is all very touching, I'm sure, but I believe I'll be going, now," Death said dryly. "I trust you're clear on that little matter we spoke about, Castiel?"

"Yes. Quite clear," Cas said tersely.

"Just a moment," a loud voice said. They all looked around for the owner of the voice, but there was no one else in sight. Suddenly, a bush burst into flames, and a moment later, a man stepped through the fire. He waved his hand, and the flames were gone.

The Winchesters were puzzled. Who was THIS guy? An Angel? Another Archangel, maybe? Cas and Gail were gaping at him, open-mouthed, and Death's eyebrows rose. Whoever the newcomer was, he was obviously a heavy hitter.

The man walked over to Death and took the Book from his hand. He gave it a cursory glance. "Congratulations on finding the location of the prize," he said to the quartet.

Death's dour expression had returned. "I believe that Book is mine," he said.

The man looked at him coolly. "I believe that I'll be the judge of that," he said calmly. "Just because I'm hardly ever here on Earth does not mean that you can usurp my role. If anyone is going to give my Son a lecture, it'll be me, and not you."

Sam and Dean's eyes widened. His son?

"That's right; we've never formally met," God said to the brothers. "Normally, you wouldn't be able to look upon Me, of course." He looked at Cas. "So, here we are. What do you have to say for yourself, Castiel?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," Cas replied. "I went back. I did as I was told, in Germany."

"Germany? I'm not talking about Germany," God said. "Sam Winchester is still alive."

Gail's heart jumped into her throat. WHAT?! she thought.

God looked at her as if she'd spoken aloud. "I'll get to you in a minute, My Daughter."

"There was no reason for Sam to die," Cas said in a pleading tone.

"Apparently, you have learned nothing from the lesson that Germany was supposed to have taught you," God said with a frown. "Because here you are, still questioning My instructions, trying to circumvent the natural order of things."

"That's what we were conversing about," Death said, and God glanced at him sharply. "Almighty Father," Death added quickly, and a laugh bubbled up in Gail's throat. But she'd better not let it out. Nobody was looking very pleased right now, and after what she'd just heard about God's wrath and His penchant for punishments, Gail wasn't very eager to press her luck.

"Well, right now, I believe I'm the one who has the floor," God said to Death. "We'll converse later." He waved his hand absently, and Death disappeared.

God was still holding the Book, and Gail's eyes widened slightly. Was He going to give it to them?

"Not exactly," God said dryly, reading her mind, because of course He was. "I believe I was just speaking about circumventing the natural order. Now, what kind of message would I be sending if I let you just bring everyone who has died back to life? Isn't that something along the lines of dark magic?" He glanced over at Dean. "Not that you're not already familiar with that sort of thing. I looked the other way for that particular little escapade, because Dean died in the service of Heaven. But now here you are, attempting to change things yet again."

"That was my idea, Father, not Gail's," Cas said quickly.

God raised an eyebrow. "Really? I thought the two of you were as one. You can't have it both ways. Gail has made it quite plain that you are united in your actions. It appears that my Daughter is very adroit at the art of circumvention these days, as well. I wonder who she learned that particular skill from?" He added rhetorically.

They were all quiet again. God opened the Book, leafing through it. "Still, it is a shame that you four went to all that trouble to find this, only to have it taken away," He mused aloud. "I think it's high time this tome was put to use." He waved His hands again, and the Book vanished. Cas gasped.

God looked up. "Do you have something to say, my Son?" Cas was too terrified to speak, and so were the others. After a moment, God went on. "The Book is not gone, it's just been...disseminated, for lack of a better term," He told them. "I have given a page or two to a number of different individuals, because I am very interested in seeing where their true natures lie. I'm going to send you all to rewrite parts of your own history, by changing an aspect of your story along the way. We will continue in that manner until the last page of the Book is used up, and then, we will see."

"See WHAT?" Dean blurted out. He couldn't help it.

God regarded the elder Winchester coolly. "There are none so blind as those who are unwilling to see," He stated.

Suddenly, Dean's vision was gone, but just as he started to panic, it was restored.

"As the expression goes, I have 'a thing' about being spoken to with respect," God said dryly. "I don't expect humans to prostrate themselves at my feet, but I won't be barked at, either. Do we have an understanding, Dean Winchester?"

Dean nodded. His throat had dried up. And to think, he used to be intimidated by Cas, when his friend had first shown up in that barn on Earth. Now, Cas was looking like a puppy dog that had just been whacked on the nose with a newspaper for piddling on the rug. Gail's eyes were so wide she'd progressed from Bambi to bush baby, and Sam's Adam's Apple was bobbing furiously. When Sammy was really nervous, he swallowed, a lot. But Dean had never pointed that out to his little brother, because he was pretty sure that it was the poker "tell" that Frank had said that Dean had, and Dean liked beating Sam at poker.

"All right, then. Off you go, My children. As the song says, 'It's just like starting over'. Written by a flawed individual, to be sure, although ultimately, he meant well. And, speaking of which: I think we'll begin with you, Castiel."

God waved his hands, and the four of them disappeared.


	5. Chapter 2 - Call Me

Chapter 2 - Call Me

Castiel moved quickly down Heaven's corridors in an effort to get to the boardroom on time. He nearly made it. He was just rounding the final corner when he bumped into Laurel. Literally.

She made an "oof" sound, and dropped the files she'd been carrying. They scattered all over the floor. Laurel got down to her hands and knees immediately, apologizing profusely.

Technically, Castiel had bumped into HER, but he had been in a hurry to get to the meeting. He felt no urge to apologize, though. He was a member of the Upper Echelon.

But he was still a gentleman at heart, so Castiel felt torn between his desire to make the meeting on time and his innate upbringing, which told him that he should help her.

"Go ahead, Castiel. They're all waiting for you. I'll send a message that I delayed you," Laurel said, straightening up with the files gathered in her arms.

"Good. Do that," he said, frowning. Then he continued down the hall. As the Head of the board, he hated being late. It set a bad example.

Castiel had never gone to Earth. Nor had he ever met anyone named Dean, Sam, Bobby, Gail, or Frank. He had stayed here in Heaven and done his duty as the Senior ranking Angel. He was the Chairman of the Upper Echelon board, and they had important things on the agenda.

Laurel stared after them. Castiel was an arrogant jerk, but he was her boss, second only to God Himself. Laurel had served the Father faithfully for years and years, but God was frequently absent from the Office, and when He was gone, it was Castiel who was in charge. If she could find him, that was.

She was a timid, hard-working woman, much like the kind of person she'd been before she'd met Gail, and fallen in love with Chuck. But in this timeline, both Gail and Chuck were humans, living on Earth, and they would never meet. Therefore, Laurel was doomed to endure the rest of her existence as a shrinking violet who suffered from a burning, unrequited crush on the Angel Castiel.

Yes, Laurel was Aurielle, 2.0 in this particular reality. But because she was a mousy little thing, she would not become aggressively crazy, and she would never act on the way she felt. All she would do was daydream at her desk while she was doing mindless work like filing, or collating. Visions of knocking on the door of the High Office, and hearing Castiel's voice, telling her to come in. So she would, and he would be sitting in the big chair behind the desk, signing off on permission slips for Angels who had requested to do special projects around Heaven. There had been rumbles amongst some of them for a while now to allow visits to Earth, but Castiel was adamantly opposed to the idea. And since he was the de facto God when the Father was absent, his word was The Word.

Laurel would approach him timidly, and he would tell her to come and take the signed permission slips. His voice would be gruff and impatient; off-putting and sexy, at the same time. So Laurel would hurry. She would stand in front of the desk, and after a moment, Castiel would look up. "Come HERE," he would instruct her, so Laurel would walk around the desk to where he sat. Castiel would regard her for a moment, and then he would pull her onto his lap, and they would be kissing. It was amazing. After all this time of looking right through her, Castiel was finally kissing her. Then he would push back the chair, undo his pants, and ask her, "Would you worship me?"

"Laurel! Has the meeting started yet?" Metatron said, scurrying down the hallway towards her.

He had broken into her daydream, and it was probably just as well, because Laurel was so overheated now that she probably shouldn't be seen in public. Would Castiel really act and talk like that? Laurel had no idea, but in her fantasies, he was always arrogant and masterful. And she could very well be right about that. The current version of Castiel was a lot of things, but he wasn't necessarily a very enlightened individual. This was the Castiel that had come to be, following God's punishment for His Son's defiance. This was where God had decided to start. He had been too curious not to see what would have happened, and this was His show, after all. He didn't have a problem with the way that Castiel was comporting himself right now, though. His Son might be overcompensating just a tad, but the bottom line was that Heaven was running like a well-oiled machine.

"Castiel has just gone to the boardroom," Laurel informed the Scribe. "You're late."

Oh, no. He'd been afraid of that. Metatron hurried towards the meeting room, clutching his papers to his chest. He'd lost track of time, as usual. He threaded his way through Angels who were walking in the opposite direction, like a stressed-out salmon swimming against the current. Finally, he got to the boardroom and yanked the door open, accidentally slamming it behind him.

"I'm sorry, Castiel," Metatron said meekly. "I was working on a project for the Father, and I lost track of time."

Castiel sighed. No matter what time the meeting was, or how much notice was given, Metatron could never seem to get here on time. Maybe he should consider some sort of punishment for latecomers, going forward.

"We have a new records keeper," Castiel announced, wasting no time on preliminaries. "His name is Stu." He nodded his head towards the newly-appointed Angel, who had been invited to the meeting for the purposes of introduction to Heaven's lawmakers.

"A records keeper?" Ignatius echoed. "Isn't that what Metatron does?"

Castiel eyed him coolly. "I wasn't aware that our Father had to justify His decisions to you, Brother Ignatius."

"I was merely inquiring - " Ignatius started to say, but Castiel held up his hand. "Moving on," the Chairman said, and Ignatius pressed his lips together in frustration. How he wished that God the Father would chair more of these meetings. But God didn't seem very interested in Heaven or its daily goings-on any more.

"Where is Raguel?" Metatron asked now. "Shouldn't he be here?" Castiel gave him a look, but the Scribe was holding his quill high, taking the minutes of the meeting, so Castiel relented. Besides, he didn't mind talking about Raguel. He didn't mind that at all.

"I'm afraid our poor Brother Raguel is ill," Castiel told the assembled men.

"Ill?" Luke repeated, puzzled.

Castiel's smile was cold. "Yes. Apparently, the multiple stab wounds he suffered at the end of my blade did not agree with him."

Jason snickered. Since neither he nor Castiel had ever been around humans, they would be unfamiliar with the Earth ritual known as the high-five. But Castiel's lieutenant nodded his approval. The two of them had long suspected that Brother Raguel had been going behind their backs, reporting to the Father about some of the more dubious practices being employed by the Elite Forces. There had been no proof of Raguel's betrayal, but men like Castiel and Jason didn't let a little detail like that get in the way. Anyone who wasn't with them was against them, and could not be trusted.

None of the others around the table commented any further, lest they be the ones to "fall ill", next. But as God continued to watch the proceedings, He felt uneasy. Was this who He'd really wanted Castiel to become? His Son was much more than the bloodthirsty schemer He saw before Him now.

It was time for a change of scenery. Maybe God would see how His Daughter was doing on Earth.

Gail and her friends were all gathered in the basement, waiting for Christina to tack the poster onto the wall.

"OK, now, settle down," Frank and Gail's mother said. Her daughter and her daughter's classmates were lined up on the opposite side of the room, holding pieces of paper of varying bright colours.

"Whoever gets their tail closest to the donkey's rear end is the winner," Frank said to the assembled group of children.

"Well, hold still, then," Gail quipped, and all the kids laughed.

Frank smirked. "That's OK, birthday girl. I'll get my revenge on you when you least expect it."

"Don't be mean, Frank," Aurielle said, nudging her friend's brother shyly. She and Gail liked to tease Frank, but truthfully, Aurielle had been thrilled to see him here. She had a bit of a crush on Frank, but because he was older and because he was a boy, she hadn't thought he would be here.

Frank had thought that the party was decidedly lame, but his mom had asked for his help, slipping him a little extra allowance money. There were seventeen kids here, plus his sister. There could even have been more, but his mom had told Gail that she had to draw the line somewhere. If Gail had had her way, she would have invited the whole school. She was a bubbly, precocious child, who was just edging into her teen years. God had decided that He had been a bit harsh with Gail at Kilimanjaro. She had simply been supporting her husband. It was Castiel who had committed the offenses. And God was taking Castiel away from his Daughter, after all. So He had decided to give Gail the ultimate do-over. He had changed her circumstance in a number of significant ways. Jim and Christina were alive and well, and they were Gail's biological parents. Jim was an insurance salesman, who had never hunted anything in his life. As a result, Frank and Gail had had a normal suburban upbringing, and because there were no evil forces in their lives, Gail was growing up to be an outgoing, gregarious young woman.

"Birthday girl first," Christina said. She bent down to wind the blindfold around Gail's forehead. "No cheating," Frank teased his sister.

Gail giggled as her mother spun her around gently by the shoulders, making the girl dizzy. Then she was released, and she walked towards where she'd thought the poster of the donkey was hanging. The other kids laughed as they watched Gail walk crookedly and tentatively, holding the brightly coloured piece of paper that was supposed to represent the donkey's tail in front of her.

But then, a moment later, Gail started to feel really weird. Really, really weird. She had been kidnapped by men with black eyes. Actually, both she and Frank had been, and they were in the back of a truck right now, being taken to...

"Frank! Frank!" Gail shouted. She was panicking now, flailing her arms wildly. Somehow, it had never occurred to her that she could simply take the blindfold off. But when those Demons had abducted her and her brother, Gail's hands had been tightly bound behind her back.

The partygoers were exchanging puzzled looks now, and Christina had gone upstairs to take the punch out of the fridge. But Frank realized that his sister wasn't fooling around. She was genuinely scared. He rushed to her, taking the blindfold off of her head.

"What's the matter, kiddo?" Frank asked Gail, bending down to look at her face.

Gail looked around for a second, disoriented. "I don't know," she said in a small voice. "I got scared."

Frank gazed down at his sister, frowning. Gail was turning thirteen on Monday, but right now, she sounded like she was around nine or ten. He loved his mom, of course, but Frank thought that Christina was going about this all wrong. Gail was going to be a young teenager now, but their parents treated her like she was much, much younger. This party was a prime example. Punch, and Pin The Tail On The Donkey? Lame-o. But Gail was so popular with her classmates that the kids her age were rolling with it. That was one reason that Frank had agreed to stick around. If things got a little too Sesame Street, he'd been prepared to step in. But it was strange: it almost seemed like their parents were trying to prevent Gail from growing up, or something.

Following punch and cake, most of Gail's classmates started to leave, but a few of her closest girlfriends stayed, including Aurielle, of course. God had thought that Aurielle deserved a do-over, as well. The Angel was starting out as a human girl in a far more modern era, and she was going to grow up to be a good person. The Father congratulated Himself on the added touch of bringing Gail and Aurielle together as friends.

But the incident with the blindfold had taken Him by surprise. Even the Almighty wasn't perfect, God had thought with humour. Humans were under the impression that He was, or that He should be. But as the old saying went, He had created humans in His own image. If the child was flawed, why shouldn't the parent also be?

Gail had behaved strangely when she had been unable to see, and that evening, when she, Aurielle, Holly and Mona had had their pajama party, Gail had surprised God again. She'd waited until they were alone, and then Gail had slid the Ouija board out from under her bed. The girls were giggling as they put their hands on the oddly-shaped indicator.

"You're the birthday girl, so you get to ask the first question," Aurielle said to Gail, nudging her friend.

"OK," Gail said eagerly. "What's my future husband's name, and what will he look like?"

They all waited, and then the letters started to come. Holly wrote them down on a pad of paper. "AN ANCIENT BEING," she read out loud.

Mona was laughing. "Oh, my God! You're going to marry an old guy!" she teased Gail.

The birthday girl wasn't pleased. "OK, whoever is moving that, I'll get you back, when it's your turn." The girls all swore that they hadn't been fooling around, so Gail sighed and said, "Let's try another question. Maybe something a bit more general. What's in my future?"

"Oh, my God," Holly breathed. The pointer was flying around the board now, and she was scrambling to write down the letters. Finally, it stopped.

"What did it say?" Aurielle asked.

Holly turned the pad of paper around so that they could all see.

"THE CYCLE OF DEATH?!" Gail exclaimed angrily. "What the hell? What's THAT supposed to mean?"

"I think we'd better quit playing, now," Mona said nervously. She took her hand off the pointer, and so did Holly. But Gail and Aurielle still had their hands on it, and now it began to move rapidly again, spelling out a few names in quick succession: AZAZEL. LUCIFER. VINCENT. CROWLEY. And then, finally: CASTIEL.

The girls were all terrified now. Gail seized the board and threw it across the room. "What was THAT all about?!" Aurielle exclaimed.

"I don't know, but I'm never doing THAT again," Gail said, trembling.

Frank knocked on Gail's bedroom door. "Everybody OK in there? I hear a lot of squealing. I think you guys woke up all the dogs in the neighbourhood."

Despite her fear of a moment ago, Aurielle giggled, sounding eerily like a different school chum, one that Gail would never meet in this reality. God still thought that He was being merciful. If Gail had never met Liz, Gail would not have had to mourn her.

"Your brother's so funny," Aurielle told Gail. Her friend rolled her eyes. "Oh my God, Aurielle," Gail said. "Do you want me to tell him you like him?"

"Noooo!" Aurielle wailed, and the girls started to giggle again, the Ouija board forgotten. This was much safer ground now.

"Maybe you should ask him out on a date," Holly teased Aurielle, and the latter was blushing furiously. "Shut up, Holly!"

Frank stood on the other side of the door, smirking. He knew exactly what was going on, of course. He wasn't deaf, or blind, or stupid. Whenever Aurielle would come over, she would look at him like he was the world's greatest hero, or something. It was annoying, but it felt kind of good, too. But his sister and her friends were just kids, and Frank had plans for his life. He was going to go out there and experience things, travel the world, and date lots and lots of women.

"OK, whatever," Frank called out to the girls. "Goodnight."

"We'd better turn out the lights, before my mom and dad come," Gail said to her friends. "I don't want to get in trouble."

The girls bedded down a few minutes later, and as Gail lay there with her eyes closed, trying to get to sleep, those weird names echoed in her head. Everybody knew who Lucifer was, and that was scary. But it was the last name the Ouija board had spelled out that kept resonating in Gail's head, for some reason. While all of those other names had sounded ominous and evil, when she thought of that last one, it felt different to her. Warm and comforting, like the soft blanket she was wrapped in right now. Castiel. The name sounded noble. Regal, almost. Gail had always had a vivid imagination, and she was using it now, trying to envision the man who would own such a wonderful name. He would be tall, with dark hair, and a beautiful smile. Gail could see him riding a horse, with a suit of armour on, carrying a sword. Maybe a dragon would be menacing Gail's town, and Castiel had come there to slay it. Hey, if she was going to be fanciful, she might as well go big. Castiel would kill the dragon, and then he would take off his helmet, smiling as Gail thanked him. He would have the brightest, most sparkling blue eyes she had ever seen. Then he would alight gracefully from his horse, take her hand, and...what? What would he do? Gail had no idea. She was twelve years old. Well, thirteen, on Monday. Practically a woman. But she had no idea what men and women actually did together. She knew there was a lot more to it than that, but exactly what that entailed? She had no idea, and she had no idea where to get the information. You couldn't just run around asking people about stuff like that. They would think you were some kind of pervert, or something. Gail had thought about asking her mother, but Christina was always admonishing her to act like a lady, and Gail wasn't sure her questions would qualify. Besides, her mom was always so reluctant to talk about anything the slightest bit...uncomfortable. Christina had finally forced herself to have that talk with her daughter this past summer, the one about the feminine hygiene products she had to use once a month. And it was a good thing she had, too, because Gail had discovered the need for those products just a few short weeks later. But the expression on her mom's face during that whole conversation had been so sour that it had discouraged Gail from any follow-up. Her mother would probably have a cow if Gail asked her about sex. There had been a few whispered, giggly conversations with some of her closest girlfriends, but those had only served to heighten the confusion. It seemed as if a consensus could not be reached. Apparently, the man did something to the woman with their bodies which may or may not result in a baby, depending on how they did it. Well, that was very helpful, wasn't it? Gail had thought sarcastically. She giggled into her pillow now. She probably wouldn't mind it if Castiel did something to her body. Oh, wow. She'd better stop it. Imagination was one thing, but she didn't want to be one of those weird girls, obsessing over some make-believe guy.

She yawned widely, and a minute later, Gail was sound asleep.

Gabriel stood at the bar, surveying the room. Why did the women always seem to travel in packs at these kinds of places? At least, the prettier, younger ones did, anyway. Maybe that was shallow, or sexist, or whatever. But Gabriel was from a whole different era. When men were men, and women were...well, suffice it to say that Gabe had a lot to learn about womens' rights in the age of enlightenment.

But right now, he was much more interested in a female's companionship than in her politics. The problem was, how did you split one off from the pack? Hoo, boy. He'd better not say THAT out loud. Women of the modern era did not appreciate language like that. He had found that out the hard way.

Then he noticed a woman who was, blessedly, sitting at a corner table by herself. She was an attractive enough woman, but Gabriel could tell right away that she was different from the kind he usually went for. She had short, dark hair, and she was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. It had been really hard for Gabriel to get used to women wearing pants. He liked it when they worse skirts, or dresses. It just seemed more feminine. He'd made the mistake of voicing that opinion out loud when he'd first been stationed here on Earth, and Gabe had learned quickly enough that it was an unpopular one. Well, amongst the ladies, anyway.

Castiel had finally come to the conclusion that they should have a representative on Earth, to gather intel on the humans and their activities. Humans were a mystery to Heaven's current regime, and with God being absent so often, certain higher-ranking individuals had been lobbying for the annexation of Earth. Others on the board wanted no part of humans, and still others were of the opinion that God alone should decide.

God was aware of the debate, of course, but He had decided to stay out of it, for the time being. The only thing He had done was to leave Castiel a note on the desk in the High Office, stating that He wanted Gabriel to be Heaven's representative on Earth. Castiel hadn't cared. As an Archangel, Gabriel merited his place on the board, of course, but on those rare occasions he deigned to attend the meetings, he contributed nothing. And for Gabriel's part, he had been only too glad to remove himself from that room of stuffy dinosaurs. If Dad wanted him to go down to Earth and mingle with the humans, that was fine by him. Last he'd checked, there were lots and lots of beautiful women there, and lots of alcohol, too. And he wouldn't have to look at Castiel's stony, disapproving face all the time. That was all kinds of winning, right there.

He picked up his drink and walked to the table where the brunette was sitting. "Hey, I'm Gabe."

Jody eyed the newcomer with suspicion. She'd been hit on three times in the past twenty minutes. If she'd known this place was such a meat market, she would have picked another bar.

But before she had the chance to decide if she wanted to exchange pleasantries with this new guy, he put a hand to his forehead, like he'd developed a sudden headache. As a pick-up move, it was decidedly different, Jody thought, bemused. Especially since this guy had a pained look on his face now.

Gabriel put his drink down on her table. "Sorry; gotta go," he said, walking away quickly. OK, that had been weird. Jody was trying to decide if she should take it personally. Then she shrugged. Oh, well. She went back to watching the game on TV.

"What are you yelling about?" Gabe asked Castiel, as soon as he'd popped himself up to the High Office.

"Matthew and I were having a little chat, and he told me that you're doing nothing on Earth but drinking and womanizing," Castiel replied.

Snitch, Gabriel thought, but he countered with a question of his own: "What are you doing, listening to those schmos? You know they're all jealous, because I'm an Archangel, and they're just glorified ghostwriters."

Castiel nodded curtly. Gabriel had a point, there. But the Archangel wasn't finished yet. "Not only that, but I'd be very careful around guys like Xavier, too, if I were you. It's the sycophants that have the sharpest knives, sometimes."

Castiel sat back in his chair, putting a hand to his chin. "That's a very astute observation, Brother." Then, he frowned. "You know, you could be of great assistance to me, Brother Gabriel," he remarked.

Gabe rolled his eyes. "As what? Your narc?"

Castiel's forehead wrinkled. "'Schmos'? 'Narc'? What sorts of words are those?"

The Archangel smirked. "You should come with me to Earth, sometime. They have all kinds of colourful expressions for things, there."

"No, thank you," Castiel said indifferently. "I'll leave the colour to you."

Gabe leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the corner of the big oak desk. Castiel's frown deepened, if that was even possible. Gabriel regarded him calmly, as if daring his Brother to admonish him. Cas might be God's lieutenant right now, but Gabriel was an Archangel. Castiel wasn't Gabe's boss, or his superior. Actually, Castiel was a real ass-hat, which was another one of those colourful expressions that humans used.

But the thing was, Castiel didn't HAVE to be an ass-hat. Gabriel was an excellent judge of people, and he knew that Cas was a different sort of person, deep down. OK; maybe deep, deep down. He just had to get out of Heaven and live a little. So to speak.

"Why don't you come back to the bar with me, Cas? You look like you could use a break," Gabe remarked. "When was the last time you had any fun?"

"Fun?" Castiel echoed. He still had that lemon-sucking expression on his face.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Fun. Surely you know what THAT word means."

"I'm not here to have fun, I'm here to do my duty," Castiel replied.

"Many people manage to do both, Cas," Gabriel said. "Humans work all day, but then they have this thing called 'Happy Hour' at the bar, afterwards. The drinks are inexpensive, and people go there to unwind, and talk to each other. You could get yourself a woman, Cas. Take that stick out of your butt."

Castiel regarded Gabriel dubiously, and now Gabe was really worried that his Brother was going to ask him what THAT meant. But what Cas said instead was, "I am not a suitable mate."

Gabe regarded him for a moment. If Castiel meant what the Archangel thought he meant, that statement actually contained a lot of self-reflection on Cas's part. It was things like that, right there, that made Gabe think that his Brother was not beyond reaching. But, being who he was, Gabriel smirked. "I'm not necessarily talking about becoming someone's mate," he said mischievously. "How about just mate-ING, then?"

Castiel's expression was dour. "Are you talking about fornication?"

"Oh. My. Dad," Gabe said, shaking his head. "If that stick gets any higher, it'll be coming out of your mouth, in a minute. You don't have to look at it like that. Look at it this way: you might meet a nice, sweet, pliable girl." Cas looked at him sharply. "OK, fine. You might meet your future wife. The love of your life. How's that?"

Now Castiel's look was incredulous. "Are you suggesting that I should marry a human? An inferior?"

Aww, geez. Gabe really wished he hadn't said that. The Archangel swung his legs off the desk and stood from his chair. "You know what, Cas? Fine. I thought there was hope for you, but if you're gonna talk like that, I'm done trying. Good luck with your loveless, friendless, useless existence."

Then Gabe snapped his fingers, and he was gone. Cas stared at the empty space where the Archangel had been for a minute or two, and then he picked up his quill pen once again.

Three down, one to go, for the first section of the Book of Life. God had been very specific about the way He had wanted to set everything up. Castiel had defied His orders one too many times, so his Father had forced the issue. Sent him back to Heaven to apprentice for the High Office. But God wasn't very pleased about the way Castiel was going about his business. The arrogant, elitist attitude, the underhanded and violent tactics that were being employed to deal with upstarts...Castiel had become the very sort of man he had stood against, at the time of his tribunal. His Son hadn't smiled in weeks, unless it was to demonstrate his satisfaction at having slain yet another one of the board members. Castiel hadn't liked the expression he had seen on Luke's face when the subject of Raguel had come up at the last board meeting. Then, following his discussion with Gabriel about jealousy, Castiel had decided to do something about it. Deciding that Gabriel had brought up a very good point, Castiel had thought that he would pay Luke a visit, and make an example of him. So when he'd left Luke's little apartment in Heaven, the Gospel writer had been pinned to the wall with his own Angel blade, and there was a terse note impaled by the knife, which simply read: "Betrayers, beware." Castiel had smiled then, as he'd been washing Luke's blood from his hands. He felt that the point had been made.

But it was that sort of smile which concerned God the most. He didn't necessarily object to his Son having dispatched either Raguel or Luke, because both men HAD been conspiring to usurp the Office. However, where was the line to be drawn? It was a slippery slope, wasn't it? Soon, Castiel might be seeing enemies everywhere. Soon, his Son might become another Mao, or a Mussolini. Or even a Hitler. And wouldn't THAT be ironic?

God had dealt with Gabriel the way He had for several reasons. The hedonistic Archangel had been dealt a harsh blow with Liz's death, and God had wanted to make that up to his Son. In that particular instance, Gabriel had merely been collateral damage. God had been looking to punish Castiel this time around, not Gabriel, or Gail. But since those Angels were all so close now, it seemed as though anything that affected one, affected the others. It had hurt God when Liz had been killed, too. She was truly one of His most pure creations. But, sometimes, sacrifices had to be made, in view of the bigger picture. Maybe He would canonize the poor girl, in the future. If anyone would deserve it, Liz would.

So Gabriel was on Earth, drinking and skirt-chasing again, as happy as a bug in a rug because he had never made Liz's acquaintance. But God had an ulterior motive behind Gabriel's cushy assignment. He'd hoped his Archangel Son would be able to shake Castiel out of the downward spiral His other Son seemed to be in. But the attempt had been a failure. In this reality, the two men didn't have the type of convivial relationship that they'd had at the time their Father had pulled the trigger on this whole thing. He would have to think about that particular dynamic a bit more.

Similarly, the revision of Gail's situation had at first seemed ideal, but a re-think might be in order there, too. Gail had always been one sharp individual, but the Father had been taken aback by the fact that even this heavily revised version of his Daughter seemed to have some sense memories about her other existence. Or, she just had a really overactive imagination. In any event, adolescent Gail seemed restless and unsatisfied with her circumstance, and since she wasn't going to be with Castiel in this new reality, maybe God should accelerate her development a bit. He was sure that an outgoing and gregarious Gail would have no difficulty finding a number of young men to date.

And, finally, he had a do-over for one more individual. God had really wanted to see what sort of person Abigail would have turned out to be had she never had the misfortune to either meet Vincent or give birth to Gail, because both of those occurrences were viewed as equally unfortunate, in Abigail's eyes.

Abigail was a young, single woman now, working as a personal assistant for a record company executive who was the most successful woman the music business had ever seen. The woman was mentoring her young aide in the recording arts, and in the care and feeding of the singers they had contracts with. Abigail was soaking up the knowledge with a sponge. She was a bit of a meek woman, but her boss was helping Abby to come out of her shell. Soon, she should be able to handle clients on her own, and schmooze others in the industry with as much success as her mentor. Of course, there was a wee bit of training still to be done, Rowena realized. Abigail had never actually made a hex bag before.


	6. Chapter 3 - Celebration

Chapter 3 - Celebration

"What kind of person has a birthday on Christmas Eve?" Dean groused good-naturedly.

"A very considerate person," Quinn retorted. "All my life, people have given me combined Christmas and birthday presents. So I'm actually a lot lower-maintenance than all of those pesky girls who have their birthdays on non-special occasions."

"Hey!" Nicole said, pretending to take offense. She was standing at the kitchen counter, icing Quinn's birthday cake. "We can't help when we were born."

"True dat," Paul said, breezing past her. He scooped a finger into the icing bowl on his way by, tasting a dollop of the sweet chocolate frosting.

"Hey!" Nicole said again, swatting at him. "Keep your mitts to yourself!"

"That's what I said to him, last night!" Kevin joked, and everyone laughed.

Sam came downstairs then, and he moved immediately to the table to give Quinn a hug and a kiss. "Robbie's down for his nap," he told her.

"Thanks, honey," Quinn said, smiling. "Would you like a coffee?"

"It's OK; I'll get it," Sam said affably. "It's your birthday. You shouldn't have to do anything, today."

Quinn was still smiling. Sam was so considerate. It was just as well, too. The baby was kicking up a storm. She put her hand on her stomach. She hoped it was a girl, this time. A sister for Baby Robbie. At least the siblings would be close in age. This particular pregnancy had been a happy accident, though. They hadn't even really talked about having another baby, but...well, these things just happened, sometimes. Dean had been making jokes about her giving birth to another Jesus, since it was so close to Christmas. Actually, he probably wasn't that far off, regarding the date, at least. Quinn had been feeling more and more like the baby's arrival was imminent. She hoped it wouldn't be tomorrow, though. It was bad enough that her own birthday was on Christmas Eve. Plus, she had a huge turkey in the fridge for tomorrow.

"Is your mom coming for dinner tomorrow?" Quinn asked Kevin.

"Yeah, she'll be here," her neighbour confirmed. He looked at his watch. "In fact, Paul and I had better get to the airport."

"I can't wait to ask Linda about her latest project," Sam said, taking a mug out of the cupboard. "They said in the paper she's doing an homage to Impressionalism."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I just wanna know how much she sold her paintings for."

Nicole came to the table to sit beside her husband. She smiled at Dean. "Why? Are you thinking of hitting her up for a loan?"

Dean took Nicole's hand, flashing her a grin. "No, but it doesn't hurt to have a rich friend," he said to his wife. "You never know."

Nicole was curious. "You never know... what?" she asked him, but before he could give her an answer, Quinn's water broke. "It's Jesus time!" she exclaimed, and Sam sprung into action.

God had set it up this way for obvious reasons. Like Frank and Gail, the Winchester siblings deserved a chance to experience nice, normal lives. Quinn really hadn't deserved her fate at Becky's hands, and Sam had always wanted a wife and kids. Decent ones, that was, not the abomination that Becky and Vincent had created, which was currently being passed off as Sam's son. That had been just a little harsh on God's part, too. But, He stood by it. However, in this reality, both of Sam's children were going to be happy and well-adjusted. Robbie, aka Rob, was getting his do-over too, and so was little Agnes, who had just announced her impending arrival at her parents' kitchen table. Dean and Nicole had gotten married a few months prior, and Dean's business had been doing very well, despite his jokes about needing rich friends. Dean had been contemplating asking Nicole if she might want to consider having a kid or two. Or maybe they should do some travelling, first. Once you had kids, you were pretty much doing THAT full-time. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but Dean also kind of wanted to take a road trip. It had been way too long.

Linda had always wanted to be a successful artist, so she was one. She travelled extensively, having gallery openings all over the world to show her pieces of art. And, since Linda was now single, God had brought Kevin and Paul together, just to see. They were closer in age, and the Father had been curious to see what would happen if the two young men were to explore a relationship. So He had brought them together in a domestic situation and made them Sam and Quinn's neighbours, here in the suburbs. Dean and Nicole has an apartment in the city, as did Linda. When the artist was home, that was.

Leaving the group to organize their trips to the hospital and the airport, God turned his attention to another area, to see how one of His other do-overs was doing.

Jody was pouring champagne in small plastic cups for all the men and women in the station house, celebrating another successful year. "Here's to continuing our one-hundred-percent solve rate into the New Year," the Sheriff said to the officers. She raised her glass. "Not only that, but our violent crime ratio is the lowest I've ever seen."

"That's because everybody in town is intimidated by us," Efram wisecracked, and Riley laughed. "Us?" his friend and patrol partner echoed. "Yeah, right."

Jody smiled. "Hey, whatever works," she said affably. "Anyway, this is just my way of saying thank you." She took a sip of her champagne. "Thanks for all your hard work. Now, drink up, and then get out of here. I'm sure you all have families to go home to."

"Shouldn't some of us stay on duty?" Riley said uncertainly.

Jody waved him off. "Nahhh. It's Christmas Eve. Peace on earth, and all that. Besides, I'll be here, just in case."

"You will?" Efram said, frowning.

"Yeah," Jody replied. "And don't look at me like that. I just have some paperwork I want to finish up." Yeah. Sure. Paperwork. That was it. That was Jody's story, and she was sticking to it. But there was no way she was going to make any of her staff work on Christmas. Better her than them. She had a frozen turkey entree all ready to go at home, and Dammit the cat had a can of Fancy Feast to look forward to. The cops Jody hung out with had all razzed her about becoming a Crazy Cat Lady, but Jody was glad to have the companionship. The cat had come scratching at her door a few weeks back, and Jody had taken it in and fed it. It'd had no collar and there hadn't been any reports of a missing pet, so she had kept it. When word got around the station house, the guys - and girls - had asked the Sheriff what name she had bestowed upon the cat, and she had looked at them blankly for a moment. Oh. Right. Name. So she'd had that in the back of her mind when dinnertime came. Jody had put the cat's dish on the floor, and then she had sat down to a nice meal of salmon, rice, and vegetables. She'd even poured herself a glass of wine. Then she'd realized that the remote for the TV was still on the coffee table in the living room. And, naturally, once she had turned her back on the small dining table in the corner of the living area, the cat had been on the table, whiskered face deep in the salmon. "Dammit!" Jody had exclaimed. She shooed the cat off the table, but it was too late. So then Jody did the only thing she could do, reasonably speaking: she put the plate on the floor, letting the cat have at it. Then she picked up her wine glass, went into the kitchen, nuked a bowl of popcorn, and watched a movie. That damn cat had grazed its way through her entire dinner, including the vegetables, and then it had jumped on the couch next to her, upending the bowl of popcorn all over the floor.

"Dammit!" Jody had exclaimed again. And thus, the cat's name was born.

Well, it would be just Jody and Dammit again tonight. A brand new year was almost upon them, but absolutely nothing in Jody's life had changed. She guessed it was an all-right life, as lives went. And it certainly beat the alternative. But every once in a while, an occasion like Christmas would come along, reminding the Sheriff how lonely she truly was.

As the cops started to file out of the station house, Jody checked her computer. Nothing much to look at, really. A few "Season's Greetings" e-mails from City Hall; that was about it. It was kind of sad how everybody was afraid to say "Merry Christmas" any more. Like the words themselves were offensive. She didn't care whether you celebrated or not; if people were wishing you well, they weren't robbing or shooting you. That was a win-win, in Jody's book, whether you were religious or not.

Jody sighed, shutting the computer off. She might as well go home. Dammit would probably be surprised to see her this early. Ahh, who was she kidding? He would probably be curled up on the couch, sleeping. She should've gotten a damn dog, instead. Maybe she would get one in the New Year, and call him "To Hell". Then, when she called both pets, she could be cursing, at the same time. Leave it to a woman in charge to think up another way to multi-task, Jody thought with humour.

She locked up the station house and went home.

Gail had been pretty happy with her Christmas haul this year: books, books, and more books. A few clothes, some CDs, and a set of pens with feathers on the end of them and a hard-cover book with lined pages, stamped "My Journal" on the cover. She had requested the latter, saying she wanted to record her thoughts and dreams. The pens had fascinated her. They reminded her of the kind of pens they'd used in the Olden days. Quill pens; that was it. The kinds of pens they might have used back in the days of King Arthur. She would have to do some research on that. Maybe she would write a story about Camelot. Despite her best efforts, Gail had been unable to get her fanciful vision of Sir Castiel out of her mind.

Gail pointed at her brother. "You'd better not go snooping in my journal," she warned Frank.

Before Frank could come up with a suitable retort, Jim smiled and said, "I don't think that will be a problem." He plucked a white envelope from the tree branches. "This is from me and your mom. Merry Christmas, Frank."

Frank opened the envelope eagerly, his jaw dropping. "Holy crap!" He looked up at his parents. "Really?"

"What is it?" Gail asked, scrambling over to her brother to look.

Frank showed her. It was a plane ticket to London, England, and a wad of spending money.

"Every young man should see Europe while he's still young," Jim said to his son, clapping Frank on the shoulder. "We'll discuss college when you get back."

Gail looked up at her brother with wide eyes. He was leaving?

Frank saw the expression on his sister's face, and he tried to soften the blow. "Hey, you can make me a list of cool souvenirs to bring you, with those fancy new feather pens of yours," he said to her.

She looked down at her lap. Frank was leaving? Of course he was. He was a man now. He didn't want to hang around with little kids all the time. Oh, boy. Aurielle was going to kill herself. Unless she'd moved on. Right before the Christmas holidays, Gail's friend had told her in strict confidence that she had a crush on a boy in their class. Gail hoped that was true. And as for Gail herself, she would just have to get over it. It's not like Frank would be gone forever. Maybe she would ask him to take some pictures of some castles, and e-mail them to her. She had a story to write.

All in all, God was fairly satisfied with the way that things had been going. A good number of His children were happy, and living in better situations than they had been before. Or even if they weren't happy, He had set them up so that they could be. After all, He couldn't do everything. Frank had wanted to travel, so he was going to get a chance to do just that. He was going to make the acquaintance of a young man named Matty on the plane, and the two of them were going to spend several months backpacking around Europe together. Then, when Frank returned home, the future would be wide open for him. He would find a much more mature younger sister when he returned, though. God had already decided that Gail would be happier and less reclusive if she were older. The next time Frank saw his sister, she would be in her 20s, but no one who knew her would think anything of it. When you were the Almighty, you could get away with that sort of thing.

Not everyone was faring as well in the happiness department. Castiel was an arrogant thug, and Gail and Jody were lonely. Gabriel was a barfly with no real purpose to his existence, and Abigail was getting mixed up with the wrong sort of individuals again.


	7. Vignette - Another One Bites The Dust

VIGNETTE - ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST

"I'm telling you, Ro," Barnabas insisted. "That punk-ass kid is gonna shut down the entire business, unless we do something about him."

"What's Todd done now?" the red-haired witch said, sighing.

"What's this about Todd?" Abigail asked, bringing the coffee into the office. She set the tray down on the sideboard, looking anxiously at Rowena. Todd was Abby's responsibility. Rowena had sent her out to some of the clubs to see some potential new talent to sign, and Todd had gotten Abigail's attention. His voice wasn't the best she'd ever heard, but these days, that wasn't really a problem. It was image and sex appeal that they were packaging. There were ways to enhance vocals in the studio, and any sound mixer worth their salt could hide a multitude of sins. But Abby had been struck by the way young girls reacted to Todd. It was the boyish, yet bad-boy, dynamic that the young singer was projecting that Abby thought could be marketable. So she had given Todd Rowena's card, and he had been signed to the label shortly afterwards.

The problem was that Todd was a problem child. He was wildly popular with teenage girls, but he had only a modicum of talent, and a huge sense of entitlement. The more money Todd made, the worse he had behaved. Rowena had hired Barnabas as a "spiritual advisor" to young Todd. The reality was that the man was no more than a glorified minder, who young Todd had learned how to elude.

Rowena was frowning. She had a couple of Affidavits on her desk right now. Young girls who were alleging that they had been sexually assaulted by young Todd after his show. Only two girls so far, but rumour had it that they were the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

Abigail was dismayed. She felt responsible, because she had convinced Rowena to sign Todd in the first place. Rowena was aware of this fact, and so was Barnabas. Mentorship was one thing, but Rowena and Todd's minder had an entirely different sort of arrangement, involving black magic, and a whole lot of sex.

"Bring young Todd in here, Abby," Rowena instructed her assistant now. "Let's see what he has to say for himself."

So Abigail went back out to the reception area, and a moment later, Todd came rushing in. "What?" he said to them. "What's so important that you had to call me to come in here? I'm a busy man, you know."

Rowena regarded him balefully. "I know what you were 'busy' doing. And you're hardly a man. You're a boy, and a disobedient one, at that."

"You can't talk to me like that," Todd sneered. "You need me. I've sold millions of CDs for your company."

The witch lifted an eyebrow. "So have singing dogs, and opera singers. Even the bloody Pope made a record. And they didn't have to use Autotune to sweeten his voice, either! And I'll bet you he didn't rape young women in-between takes." She picked the Affidavits up off her desk. "What do you have to say about these allegations?"

Todd laughed derisively. "Whatever," he said, shrugging. "They just want money. Why don't you just throw a few bucks at them? Maybe give them an autographed poster, or something."

Abigail was disgusted by what she was hearing. "Did you, or did you not, rape those women?"

"Hey, they wanted it," Todd said insolently. "Now they're screaming rape, but at the time, they were screaming my name."

"Wrong answer," Rowena said calmly. She opened up her desk drawer. "Abby, would you come here for a moment, dearie?"

Abigail sighed. She was pretty sure she knew what was coming. But Todd was her responsibility, wasn't he? Still, she hesitated. If she did this, there would be no turning back.

"Do you want to be a doormat all your life?" Rowena asked her assistant calmly.

No. No, she didn't, Abigail thought. She went around the desk and took the hex bag that Rowena handed to her. "Hold him still," Abby said to Barnabas. The man grabbed Todd. The young singer was livid. "Get your hands off me, man!" he shouted.

But Rowena's office was protected by ancient spells, and there was no one to hear him, anyway. Abby shoved the hex bag down Todd's throat, and he made a high-pitched, whining sound in his throat.

"That's the best note you've ever sung," Abigail quipped, and both Rowena and Barnabas laughed. That had actually been a pretty good one.

Seconds later, Todd was dead, and Abigail had crossed over to the dark side.

VIGNETTE - YOU SHOOK ME ALL NIGHT LONG

Tommy was trying on different pairs of glasses at the optical store, looking at himself in the mirror with every set of new frames he tried on. Some of them made him look professorial, and some just made him look nerdy. According to social media, nerdy was the new sexy, but Tommy didn't necessarily buy that. But he needed a new prescription, and now that he had received a big, fat advance cheque from the publisher for his latest book, the author was going on a bit of a shopping spree.

He finally made his choice, but when he told the girl which frames he had picked out, she told him that they were custom. What did that mean? Tommy'd wanted to know. Four to six weeks to get his new glasses, she'd advised. He sighed. This was one of those places that advertised one-hour service. Their ads had said nothing about custom frames. Tommy guessed that was his own fault. Champagne tastes, et cetera. But, hey, he was enjoying the fruits of his literary successes. Or, some crap like that. Quite honestly, he would write for free, if he had to.

The clerk watched him leave the store. What a good-looking man, she thought. No wedding ring, either. Maybe she would try to engage him in a little conversation when he returned for his glasses. He was obviously doing all right financially; those had been some higher-end frames he had chosen.

Tommy walked out to the parking lot and got into his car. Since he'd thought he would be leaving the mall with new glasses, he didn't have his old ones with him. Now he realized that had been a stupid move on his part. But he lived only a few blocks away, so if he proceeded cautiously, he should be fine. He wasn't blind as a bat, or anything. He just wasn't a teenager, any more.

So he eased out of the parking space, looked both ways, and ran right into the back of a bright orange car. What the hell? Where had THAT come from?

Luckily, he hadn't been going fast. Still, Tommy knew that there was no way he wasn't liable. He got out of his car and walked up to the driver's side of the car he'd hit.

An attractive dark-haired woman was getting out, and as Tommy approached her, he could see that she had a bemused look on her face.

"Well, that has to be the slowest, gentlest fender-bender I've ever had," Valerie said, good-naturedly enough. "And to think, I picked orange because I thought it would be easier to see."

Tommy gave her a half-shrug. "Are you a fan of irony?" Now that he was closer to the car, he realized that the thing was sparkling, shiny new. Aw, geez. He squinted at the rear bumper. Did he see a scratch there?

"Are you still under warranty?" he asked her optimistically.

"Uh...this car's five years old," she advised him dryly.

"Get outta here," Tommy said, astonished. "My dining room table is dirtier than this car."

Valerie laughed. "What can I say? I like to keep a clean vehicle."

"I guess I'd better give you my information, then," Tommy said, sighing. Cars were starting to honk now, because the two of them were in the middle of the aisle. "Keep your pants on!" Tommy exclaimed, shaking his head. "People need to chill."

"I agree," Valerie said, smiling. "I'll tell you what; how about if we go around the corner to the coffee place? You can buy me a latte, and we'll assess the damage."

Tommy agreed, and they got back in their cars. They met for coffee, which turned into dinner. Then one thing led to another, and then another, and one week and a few dates later, the two of them ended up in bed together.

This had been Tommy's do-over. God completely agreed that his death had been unfair, and He also knew that deep down, Tommy had always wondered what a successful encounter with a woman would feel like. He had never told Barry that, because he hadn't wanted to hurt his husband's feelings. So, God had given Tommy a double do-over, in a way. And Valerie, as well. She had never had an abusive husband in this reality. She had done very well for herself, living the life of a modern single woman. Following a brief and mutually satisfying relationship, Tommy and Valerie would move on from each other, but very amicably.

God was very proud of Himself for the way things were turning out. Well, for the most part, anyway. But now, it was time to check in on Castiel again.

VIGNETTE - CAPTIVATED BY YOU

"OK; that does it," Gabriel said to Castiel. He snapped his fingers, and the quill pen Castiel had been writing with disappeared from his Brother's hand. Castiel made an impatient noise, reaching for another. But then Gabriel made that one disappear too, and then the file that Castiel had been working on was gone.

He glared at the Archangel. "Why are you here? What do you want from me?"

"I want you to live a little, Cas. I want you to take a vacation," Gabe responded.

Castiel was puzzled. "A vacation? What is that?"

Gabriel let out a frustrated breath. Dad, give him strength. "A break, then."

"I have too much to do," Castiel said. Incredibly, he reached for yet another quill pen and another file.

Gabriel waved his arms, and everything disappeared. All the pens, all the files, even Castiel's phone. All of it. "I can do this all night, Cas," the Archangel said happily.

Castiel sighed. "What will it take for you to leave me alone?"

"One hour," Gabe said quickly, smelling victory. "Come with me to Happy Hour. We'll have a couple of drinks, and we'll talk to a couple of females. One hour. Come on, Cas. We're eternal beings. What's one hour? Nothing. Nada."

"And then you will leave me alone?" Castiel said wearily.

"Yeah," Gabriel said, crossing his fingers behind his back. Who knew? He might not even be lying.

"All right," Castiel said in a long-suffering voice, and Gabriel grinned. "Is that what you're wearing?" the Archangel asked his Brother.

Castiel looked down at himself. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" he asked his Brother.

"You look like an old fuddy-duddy," Gabriel replied. "Here. Allow me." He snapped his fingers again, and Cas was dressed in an emerald-green shirt, black jeans, and a black blazer. Then, for the final touches, Gabe wiggled his fingers, growing a bit of stubble on Castiel's chin and tousling his hair. "There," the Archangel said. "Perfect."

But Castiel was running a hand over his face now. "Shouldn't I be clean-shaven?" he said doubtfully. The other hand was in his hair. "Or at least arrange my hair?"

Gabe was grinning once again. "No, and no," he told his Brother. "In my experience, women frequently prefer the opposite."

Now Castiel was eyeing him suspiciously. "I'm not going there to meet women," he said bluntly. "I'm going so that you'll leave me alone, as you promised."

"OK, Cas. Whatever you say," Gabriel replied. "Ready to roll?"

Castiel looked at him as if he were about to ask why they would roll anywhere, but then he surprised his Brother. "Just a moment." He opened one of the lower drawers in the oak desk. Since it didn't seem as if God would be back anytime soon, Castiel had brought some personal things of his to the Office. Incredibly, he took out a bottle of cologne, applying some to his chin. Then he returned the bottle to the drawer as Gabe affected an innocent expression. Yeah, right. If Castiel wasn't going with the intention of meeting women, why would it matter if he smelled nice? Gotcha, Gabriel thought. This might just work out, after all.

The men were at the bar working on their third drink when Gabriel spotted the two women sitting on high stools at the other end of the bar. The hour was half over, and Castiel hadn't talked to one woman yet. Of course, they were mainly travelling in packs, like they usually did. If that sort of behaviour intimidated someone like Gabriel sometimes, with his extensive experience concerning the opposite sex, he could just imagine how it would daunt someone like Castiel.

"Look," Gabe said, tapping his Brother on the arm and nodding towards the women he'd spotted. "One for me, and one for you. Come on. Let's go."

"I'm not going over there," Castiel said stubbornly. He wasn't even looking where Gabriel was indicating. "There is no point in my meeting a human woman. You know that, Gabriel."

Gabe let out a frustrated breath. If there was a more stubborn individual in all of Creation, the Archangel had yet to meet them. But, he knew that Cas was full of it. He'd been concerned about his appearance, and he had put on cologne. Oh, he wanted to meet a female, all right; he just wouldn't let himself admit it.

"I'll tell you what," Gabriel said to his Brother. "I know you don't have any experience with this sort of thing. I'll go over there, and break the ice." He pointed a finger at Castiel. "Don't go anywhere," Gabe said sternly. "Your hour's not up, yet."

He walked away as Castiel sighed. He had been thinking about going to the mens' room and popping back up to Heaven. But if Castiel didn't honour his end of the bargain, he knew that Gabriel would never stop pestering him. So, he endured.

Gabriel snapped his fingers on the way over there, and two drinks that were identical to the ones that the women were drinking appeared in his hands. The bar was crowded. No one would notice. He brought them to where the women sat, placing them on the bar.

"Hi, I'm Gabriel," he told them. "These are from me and my buddy over there. Would you like to join us for some conversation?"

Aurielle looked him up and down. "We're not drinking those," she said bluntly.

"Why on earth not?" Gabriel asked her, puzzled.

Gail's friend rolled her eyes. When God had accelerated Gail's growth, he had done the same with her best friend. With the exception of Liz, Gail had been mainly friendless growing up, and God didn't want history to repeat itself. So Aurielle was in her 20s now, too.

"Why do you think?" she said to Gabriel. "A strange man brings us drinks, and we're just supposed to drink them? How gullible do you think we are?"

"Hey, I'm not THAT strange," Gabriel said charmingly. "Now, my friend, on the other hand..." He was a bit taken aback now. That had been yet another aspect of the modern woman he'd found difficult to get used to. They were so mistrustful; suspicious of everyone, and everything. Surely they had cause to be, in certain circumstances. But Gabriel meant them no harm. He loved women. A lot.

Gail was smiling. She knew that Aurielle was being sensible, but she kind of liked this guy. There was just something about him that was different from the other men who had approached them tonight. Actually, the women hadn't even intended to come to this place at all. They had been driving around aimlessly, trying to decide what to do. Dinner? A movie? Then Gail had seen this place, and she'd suggested they stop in for a drink, and maybe a bite to eat. She knew it was wrong to drink and drive, but if Aurielle had one drink and some food, surely she would be all right to drive, afterwards. Then they could sit and talk for a bit. Maybe check their phones, to see what was playing at the Cineplex later.

Aurielle had shrugged. Why not? She'd pulled into the parking lot in front of The Rogue Angel, laughing at the weird name. That was why Gail had noticed it. It was like England. Frank had told her about it when he had e-mailed his sister from Europe. They had all these really odd names for bars over there, or pubs, as they were called. The Yule Love It, which was a Christmas-themed place. The Byte To Eat, which was a computer place. The Razzle-Dazzle, which didn't seem to have a theme, but it did have a little bit too much glitter for Frank and Matty's taste. So Gail had had this information in the back of her mind when she'd suggested going into The Rogue Angel, on the spur of the moment. And the name was, of course, what had attracted Gabriel to it in the first place.

Gabriel was encouraged by Gail's smile. She was a little shorter than he usually liked them, and she was a brunette. As opposed to Aurielle, who had light-coloured hair and was taller, with long legs. Gabriel had a type. But if the taller one was going to be a stick-in-the-mud, maybe she was more Castiel's type, anyway.

"I'll tell you what," Gabriel offered now. "I made a mistake with the drinks, I guess. But how about if Castiel and I get us a table, and we can just talk for a while? If you ladies want another drink, we'll have one of the servers bring them. What do you say?"

Gail's head snapped up. Castiel?! He had to be kidding her with this. She looked over to the man Gabriel was indicating, and her jaw dropped. He was exactly the way she'd always imagined him to be. Tall, dark-haired, drop-dead gorgeous. She couldn't see what colour his eyes were at this distance, but they had to be blue. They just had to be.

"Can you excuse us for a minute?" Aurielle said to Gabriel.

He looked at her uncertainly. "Uh, sure. I'll go get Cas, and we'll get a table," he said to the women. Once you had a fish on the line, you didn't let go of your pole. So to speak.

As Gabriel moved away, Aurielle looked at her friend. "You're not seriously going to tell me you're considering this," she said to Gail.

"His name is Castiel!" Gail exclaimed, grabbing Aurielle's arm. "Look at him! I have to at least meet him. Don't worry, Aurielle. There's no way a guy who looks like THAT is going to be interested in me. You, maybe. But I just have to talk to him. I'm meeting him, Aurielle," she added insistently.

Aurielle rolled her eyes. Gail was her best friend, but man, she was stubborn, sometimes. Still, it was weird that the guy's name was Castiel, and that he looked exactly like the character who was the hero in Gail's story. If she didn't know better, Aurielle would swear that those men had found out about that, somehow. But she knew that was impossible. Aurielle was the only one Gail had shared her story with. It wasn't even finished, yet.

"We're getting a table, and we're going to socialize with two very nice young ladies," Gabriel told Castiel. "Let's go."

Castiel sighed. "I told you, I don't - " He looked over to where Gabe was motioning, and the words dried up in his throat.

Gabriel grinned. He recognized that look. Another fish on the line. He didn't even care which one of them Cas liked. Gabe could afford to be magnanimous.

Gail had seen an open table, and she was moving towards it now, carrying the drinks that Gabriel had brought them. Aurielle thought that she was naive, but Gail didn't believe those guys meant them any harm. They were in a public place, after all. But there was no way that she was missing out on an opportunity to meet Castiel. Maybe there was a reason she'd had the impulse to come in here, in the first place.

Castiel was watching Gail now, and he was puzzled at his own reaction to her. She was a short, dark-haired woman with big eyes, clad in jeans and a simple V-neck top. Gabriel had cautioned his Brother to expect that. Human women generally wore pants, these days. So the way she was dressed wasn't what mesmerized Castiel so much. He honestly didn't know what it was about her that fascinated him so.

But now, he noticed with some alarm that she had just about reached the table. Castiel sprang into action. He rushed over there and pulled out the chair for her, as a bemused Gabriel trailed behind.

Gail was astonished. This guy couldn't be real. Maybe she should pinch herself, to make sure she wasn't having one of her dreams. As she sank down slowly into the chair he'd offered her, Gail felt like she was floating on a cloud. He was even better-looking up close, and he smelled amazing.

As soon as she was seated, Castiel promptly forgot his gentlemanly upbringing. He sat down quickly in the chair next to Gail, not taking his eyes off of her. He wanted to be close to her, and he didn't want to give Gabriel the chance to move in on her.

Gabriel had to hurry forward now, to pull out Aurielle's chair for her, so Cas didn't make him look bad. It was obvious that his Brother had made his choice. But Gabe was going to have to tell Castiel to look a little less intense. He was staring at the poor girl like he was starving, and she was a seven-course meal.

The four of them introduced themselves, and Aurielle asked the men, "What do you do?"

"Do?" Castiel echoed, puzzled.

"She means for a living, Cas," Gabriel said. "What are our jobs?"

Oh. Cas was nonplussed for a moment. He and Gabriel hadn't discussed what they were supposed to say in this situation. Luckily, Gabriel had an answer all ready to go. "We work for a big corporation," the Archangel said glibly. "I'm an area sales rep, and Cas is the acting CEO."

"Is your name really Castiel?" Gail asked him.

"Yes, of course it is," Cas replied. "But Gabriel sometimes calls me Cas. I don't know why."

"Because 'Castiel' sounds stuffy, that's why," Gabe said, signaling to the server for another round of drinks.

"I don't think it does," Gail said, looking shyly at Castiel. "I think it sounds noble."

Cas was startled. "You do?"

"Yes," she insisted. "Like a Knight of the Round Table, or something." She was blushing, now. Castiel was staring at her, and since he was sitting so close, she could see that his eyes were a dazzling blue. Oh, God. She was going to slide right off her chair, in a minute.

"Gail's a writer," Aurielle piped up now, and her friend gave her a look.

"Really?" Gabriel said affably. "What are you writing about?"

Don't say it, don't say it, Gail thought, but Aurielle smiled. "Camelot, and the Knights of the Round Table," she told the men.

Oh, geez. Now Castiel was looking at her even more intensely, if such a thing was possible. "Oh, well, then, you're in luck," Gabe said, his lips twitching. "Castiel can help you with some research, if you want. He's a bit of a history buff."

Cas froze. Suddenly, he could picture himself and Gail, sitting at a small table, talking about a book she was writing. Then, suddenly, the scene shifted. She was in his lap, and they were kissing. His hands were under her clothing, and he was touching her bare skin. She was so soft.

No. This was wrong. "I have to get back to the office," Castiel stammered.

Gail was dismayed. Oh, crap. She should have kicked Aurielle under the table. Castiel probably thought she was a weirdo now, and he was using work as an excuse to leave.

But Castiel didn't want to leave; not really. He just felt like he should, because he was having some very ungentlemanly thoughts about Gail. But if he were to leave now, he was afraid he might never see her again. He looked at Gabriel for assistance, but as he was doing that, Gail said, "Excuse me. I have to go to the washroom." She stood abruptly, and Castiel stood just as quickly. Oh, come on, Gail thought. He wasn't playing fair. No guy was that much of a gentleman. She glanced at Aurielle. Her girlfriend had an inquiring look on her face, which was Female Speak for: Do you want me to come with you? Gail shook her head almost imperceptibly. "I'll be right back," she announced, and she scurried away from the table.

Castiel sat down again. Gabriel and the woman - what was her name again? - Aurielle, that was it. Gabriel and Aurielle were talking now, but Cas couldn't hear a word they were saying. The blood was pounding in his ears now. He had scared her. He had scared Gail off by looking at her so intently. He had hurt her feelings by saying that he should get back to the Office. Why had he said that? He never wanted to leave her side.

He jumped up from his chair. "I'm going to wash my hands."

Gabriel grinned after Castiel's receding form. The guy had it bad. He was gonna owe Gabe big-time for this. Actually, all of Heaven was. If Cas was in love, he would probably lighten up on everyone. Gabe turned to Aurielle. "What are you doing later tonight?" he asked her.

Gail came out of the ladies' room, nearly bumping into Castiel, who had been standing there, waiting for her. She looked up at him, not knowing what to say. Why was he here? Was he looking for the mens' room?

"I'm sorry," Cas said to her. "I don't know how to talk to women." He smiled thinly. "I'm afraid I don't really know how to talk to anyone, any more. I just came here to apologize to you, and to say that I hope I didn't upset you."

"No, you didn't upset me," she told him. "I thought that maybe I did something to upset YOU, because you said that you wanted to leave."

"I didn't mean it," he said quickly. "I just felt...I feel..." Castiel was tongue-tied. How DID he feel? The fact that he felt anything at all was so remarkable to him that he had no idea how to proceed. What was happening to him? Gail was a human woman. He should not be here with her. What good could come of this? He had been taught to believe that any sort of a romantic relationship with a human was a Sin.

"I love you," Cas blurted out. Then he cursed himself. Surely she would -

"I love you too, Castiel," Gail told him. Were they crazy? Of course they were. Did they mean it? Yes. Every word. Every syllable.

She loved him? She loved him! Cas put his arms around Gail's waist and bent down to kiss her. He had never kissed a woman before, and for a split second, he'd wondered if it was going to be awkward, or if he would do it wrong. But she put her arms around his neck and let him kiss her, and then she made a small sound, almost like a sigh. Her lips were soft and warm, and Cas pulled her closer to him as the kiss deepened. Then Gail's mouth parted, and Castiel touched her lips with his tongue. Her tongue met his, and his body pressed hers gently up against the wall.

Oh, this was so wrong. Castiel was leading himself into temptation, and he was leading Gail into temptation, as well. She hadn't initiated the physical contact; he had. But, they loved each other. He didn't know why, and he didn't know how. He only knew that he loved this woman with all his heart, and she loved him, too. God help them.

Gail's heart was beating a mile a minute. She had never kissed a man before, let alone like this. Their tongues were together, and she could feel the hardness of his body against hers. This man was a stranger to her. Wasn't he? But, she loved him. Ever since Gail had seen the name "Castiel", she had loved him. This was scary. This was wonderful.

Castiel broke the kiss reluctantly, moving his lower body away from hers. He feared he was becoming too aggressive. He needed time to think. What was he going to do? Now that he had held Gail in his arms, it was unthinkable that he should be without her again. But she was a human, and he had spent his entire existence telling his fellow Angels that humans were inferior, and that they were to have nothing to do with them. Could he just turn his back on his entire belief system?

"I'm sorry. I have to go," Cas said in a trembling voice. He let go of her, rushed into the mens' room, and winked himself back to Heaven.

VIGNETTE - DON'T YOU WANT ME?

Gabriel and Aurielle had never gotten together that night, because both she and Gail had given him the cold shoulder after Castiel's disappearing act that night. When Gabe realized his Brother wasn't coming back, he'd popped up to Heaven to read Cas the Riot Act. Gail hadn't said exactly what had happened between the two of them, at least not in Gabe's presence. But the girl was devastated, and Aurielle had told Gabriel to get lost.

He found a quiet and somber Cas sitting in the dark, in the small suite he kept in the Executive Wing. Castiel didn't need much in the way of living quarters, as he worked nearly all of the time. In fact, Gabe had gone to the High Office first, expecting to find Castiel there.

The Archangel had come in hot, preparing to give Cas a lecture. But seeing his Brother sitting there sadly in the dark gave him pause. Still, he had to know: "What's up, Castiel? Why'd you leave like that?"

"What did she say?" Castiel said miserably.

"What the hell do you think she said, Cas? She was pretty upset," Gabe told him, frowning.

Cas said nothing. He felt terrible. But Gabriel just stood there, staring at him. Finally, Castiel spoke again. "I'm having a crisis of conscience, Gabriel," he said softly. "My feelings for her are wrong."

"No, they're not," Gabe insisted. "It's your head that's wrong. It's the old ways that are wrong."

Another silence, and then Castiel turned his head to look at the wall. "Leave me," he said.

Gabriel threw his hands up in frustration. "Fine. If you want to be an ass, be an ass. I'm done." Then he winked out.

Gail pestered Aurielle to take her back to the Rogue Angel every day for two weeks after that night, but neither Gabriel nor Castiel ever returned. Well, not to the womens' knowledge, anyway. Gabriel had the ability to make himself invisible to humans, so he went there every day for a week, watching the women, hoping Castiel would relent and show up. Every time a man approached the women, Gail would look up, with hope in her eyes. Then she would look down at her drink or at Aurielle when she realized the man wasn't Castiel.

After a week of that same sight, night after night, Gabe couldn't stand it anymore. Then, after another week, neither could Aurielle. She told Gail she should just forget about Castiel. The guy was a jerk, and it hurt her to see how unhappy Gail was.

For her part, Gail couldn't understand what had gone wrong. How could he have told her that he loved her and then kissed her like that if he didn't mean it? How could he? What the hell kind of a person DID that? So she'd had a good cry, and then she'd had another one, and then she had thrown her burgeoning story about Castiel in the time of King Arthur in the trash.

Gabriel had needed a new watering hole, so he'd started to frequent a place called Lyman's, at the other end of town. There, he made the acquaintance of a young, cute cocktail waitress named Becky. Gabe flirted outrageously with Becky, and she flirted back, but Becky's heart belonged to the man who stopped by once or twice a week to unwind after his last class of the day. She knew he was married, and had kids. But she couldn't help it. Sam Winchester was just so dreamy.

Barry frequented that bar too, mainly because he lived in the area, and he didn't have anything else to do at night. Barry was another one of God's children who was lonely and restless. But unlike Gabriel, Barry was looking for a man. He had absolutely no experience with things like that, though. He was a grown man, but he had never had the chance to act on his feelings. He had no idea where the "gay community" they always talked about was supposed to be, and he'd never actually met another gay person, either male or female. At least, no one who had ever admitted to it, anyway.

But one night, Tommy walked into Lyman's, and Barry's whole life changed. The two men had happened to be sitting at the bar together, and they'd struck up a conversation about politics. Tommy'd had some very specific ideas about the way the current government was running things, and Barry agreed with him, for the most part. Plus, he just liked listening to his new friend talk. Tommy was informed, intelligent, and had a dry sense of humour. He was also good-looking, and when he put on his glasses to read the bar menu or to look at something on the TV, he gave off a sort of a sexy professor vibe. The only problem was, Barry had no idea how to find out if he was barking up the wrong tree. So to speak. He envied straight people in that regard. All they had to do was suggest dinner and a movie, and in most cases, the date was implied. But this was different. Barry could ask the same thing of Tommy, and the man would probably just think that it was two single buddies, going out for a night because they were friends. And there was nothing wrong with that, not at all. But how did you convey that you might possibly have an interest in taking things further?

God wasn't too worried about Barry and Tommy. As the old saying went, love would find a way. The Almighty Father was stepping back a bit now, becoming a little less proactive. He had set certain people up in certain circumstances, allowing them to drift into the orbit of others. He had never been opposed to the concept of Free Will, not unless it opposed His objectives. The purpose of these do-overs was to give those who were deserving of it a second chance at happiness. For some of them, Sam and Dean for example, that translated into a whole new and different way of life. For others, like Gabriel, it represented a re-set of sorts. Familiar ground. Same with Jody, although time would tell if the re-set was an improvement, or a regression.

None of what was happening now surprised God, but He had received one hell of a jolt when He'd taken His eyes off of Castiel for one moment, and the next, his Son had been sitting in a bar next to Gail. Almighty Being or not, that was one plot twist that God had not foreseen. Although, truth be told, shouldn't He have? He had aged Gail into a woman, sent Gabriel to Earth into the same city where they all lived, and then stood by as the Archangel exhorted Castiel to attend Happy Hour with him. Was it possible that, on some level, God had wanted the couple to reunite? But, if the answer was yes, then the follow-up question had to be: why? Considering the type of individual that Castiel was now, and the fact that Gail was human, were they even a good match any more? Or had there been a more sinister implication? Had God allowed Castiel that one fleeting glimpse of what could have been, had he only toed the Father's line, thereby making Castiel's suffering immeasurably worse? If so, what kind of individual did that make God? And, what of Gail? Had her offences really been that bad? She had almost completely regressed now, into the reclusive person she'd been as a child, in her former existence. She still lived with her parents, and she spent practically every waking moment in her room or on the porch, reading quietly. She had no job, nor did she have any interest in higher education. It was nearly summer now, so Jim and Christina had decided to give her a few more months, and see if she could shake herself out of the doldrums. Frank was due to return from Europe in August, so that would probably help. Gail had always looked up to her big brother. Maybe he could get through to her in a way that her parents could not.

God hoped so, too; his Daughter had also defied him in the past, but she'd hardly made a career out of it, and her offenses had been far less egregious than Castiel's. Was the Father really going to continue to hold against Gail the fact that she had tried to save Abel's life, after Cain had stabbed him? And that she had admonished Cain afterwards, telling him that he could be a better person, if he so chose? Gail had been speaking with the naivete of one who had not yet been indoctrinated into Heaven's hierarchy, and God believed her motives had been pure. Still, God had harboured a latent resentment towards Castiel's one true mate after that incident, a resentment that He hadn't even been aware was present. He had chuckled about it at the time, but upon reflection, He had become angrier and angrier at her actions. How dare she? How dare this little snip of a girl presume to insert herself into what had been Before? Especially considering Gail's own background. With her lineage, Gail should have been standing beside Cain, exhorting him to cut deeper. God had been feeling magnanimous at the time, wanting to reward his Son for doing everything the correct way. The Father would frankly have preferred that Castiel fall in love with a good and pure Angel, like Aurielle, or Laurel. But love was a capricious emotion sometimes, and it refused to be manipulated, or manufactured. As it had turned out, Castiel had fallen in love with Gail once again, and the Father had allowed their relationship, because it seemed to make his Son so happy.

But this new version of Castiel was far from happy, and Gail was clinically depressed. Others were happy, while others were just going through the motions. What would happen once everyone began to exercise their precious Free Will? God would be very interested to find out.

It was time to check in on one of His other Sons, one at the opposite end of the spectrum.


	8. Vignette - Tainted Love

VIGNETTE - TAINTED LOVE

Crowley stood over John, eyeing him speculatively. The Gospel writer was a new arrival in Hell, one who the King had been very excited to receive. Up until just recently, John had sat on the elite Upper Echelon board in Heaven, and he had been one of Castiel's toadies. Privy to many of Crowley's brother's secrets. Crowley couldn't wait to crack open the walnut and see what precious nuggets lay inside.

But, surprisingly, John was being recalcitrant. Querulous, even. Why? Castiel was the one who had killed John, after all. And he had killed John slowly, painfully, and very, very successfully. Which, of course, begged the question: could you UNsuccessfully murder someone?

The King smiled at his bon mot, but of course, there was no one here he could share it with. He had never met anyone named Winchester, Bobby Singer, or Gail. Crowley was still His Majesty, and his subjects still feared and respected him. Well, more like loathed, really. But, whatever worked. Hell was humming right along, tickety-boo. So much so, in fact, that Crowley was frequently restless and bored.

But at least he had something to do, now. The King was actually glad that John was being difficult. It gave him an excuse to call in the head of the Torture Department. Despite the fact that he despised his brother, Crowley had no doubt that Castiel had dispatched yet another Gospel writer for a good reason. If John had been planning treason, or even engaging in sedition, maybe Crowley could pry some real information out of the guy. Or, his best torturer could, anyway. Crowley really didn't like to get bodily fluids on his designer suits. No matter what reality the Father might throw him into, he was who he was. Or more accurately, he was who he had made himself into.

And because Crowley had pulled himself up by his own bootstraps, he had respect for others who had, too. He even had a grudging respect for Castiel, who was behaving a lot more like Crowley these days than the Angel he was supposed to be. How could the King of Hell not feel a kinship towards the de facto dictator of Heaven, then? Even if they weren't related, Biblically speaking.

"You called for me, Your Majesty?" the head torturer said, striding eagerly into the room.

Crowley stood there for a moment, admiring the view. Abbadon was all woman, all right. She was an evil, scheming bitch with long, luxurious hair, bright red lipstick and fingernails, and high, spiked heels. Gorgeous. There wasn't a man, alive or dead, who could resist her. Crowley couldn't, nor did he try. One of the many perks of being the King of Hell was iniquity, and lots of it. He had watched Abbadon scheme and screw her way to the top with great interest. Crowley was a sexist pig in many ways, but he was an equal-opportunity employer. He had no compunctions about assigning a woman to a highly-placed position, if she had demonstrated a real aptitude for the work. And Abbadon hadn't let a little thing like the glass ceiling get in her way. She had been on the staff in the torture wing, toiling away under the Master, but Abbadon wasn't really into dues-paying. Plus, she knew that if anyone was going to be promoted from within, that person would have a penis. Well, except for the occasional little fun and games session, Abbadon didn't. So she had accelerated the process by stickling the heels of her stiletto shoes into the Torture Master's eyeballs, and then once he'd been blinded, she had gone to work on him, using his own weapons. Afterwards, she had marched over to Crowley's office, with the Torture Master's blood fresh on her clothes and her skin, telling the King she was officially applying for the position. He had been both impressed, and amused. He'd told her that he was prepared to go through the interview process immediately, if she would just clean herself up, first. They could talk about it over a drink or three, and depending on how many positions Abbadon was willing to find herself in, she might just come away with the job. The inference was clear. Crowley may be a swine, but at least he was an honest one. Abbadon had raised an artfully trimmed eyebrow, looking Crowley up and down. What if she didn't want to play that game? she'd asked him. Why couldn't she just interview the same way as the men on his staff did? Crowley's lip had twitched. That WAS how all the men interviewed, he'd told her.

Abbadon had eyed him curiously. Was he kidding, or not? Who knew? And, actually, who cared? Not her. She hadn't gotten where she was by being particular about such things. So she had gone back to her little hole-in-the-wall room, glammed herself up, and by the time Crowley was leaving his love bites on her neck, Abbadon had the promotion, and the large suite that went with it.

She and Crowley had gotten together a fair amount of times following that night, and both had been very satisfied with the arrangement. For his part, Crowley had been very, very satisfied. Abbadon was quite skilled in a multitude of different areas, and she was just as insatiable as he was. Truth be told, he was extremely besotted with her. Not that he would ever tell her that, of course. Abbadon was the sort of woman to whom any perceived vulnerability was a red flag. They had never talked about her life prior to her stint in Hell, because quite frankly, Crowley didn't care. But if he indulged in a little idle speculation, he could well imagine her having been married to a man who would dedicate his entire life to giving his wife anything she wanted. He would be totally and completely in love with the woman, and she would lap up his devotion like a cat would lap up cream. But as soon as she had his heart in her hand, she would also own his soul.

Well, Crowley had sold his own soul centuries ago for an extra 3 inches of willy, and she couldn't use his infatuation against him if he didn't confess to it. Confession was for Angels, anyway. Let Castiel sit up there in the High Office with his piousness and his paranoia. Crowley ruled his own domain with as much of an iron fist as Castiel did his, but Crowley was having a damn sight more fun.

The King left Abbadon to her knitting. He told her to get any and all information out of John that he had to give, and then to clean herself up and come to his office. A good torture session usually got her excited, and after the King debriefed his Torture Mistress, he was looking forward to...well, de-briefing her. Damn it. He really needed to get an assistant with a sense of humour. Or, barring that, a lackey who would laugh at his jokes regardless of how funny they were.

Abbadon put everything she had into John's torture, taking out her frustrations on the poor wretch. She was in love with the King, and normally, that would be a cause for happiness. But here in Hell, it was something to be lamented. If Abbadon thought for just one second that confessing her feelings to Crowley would get her anywhere, she would just do it, already. But he was an ancient being, a product of his time. There was no way that Crowley could ever regard a woman as his equal partner. Even if he were to ask her to be his Queen, she would always be on her knees before him, both literally and figuratively. That kind of existence was unacceptable to Abbadon. She had no problem with dealing it dirty, and receiving it the same way. In the bedroom, she always demanded satisfaction for herself, and Crowley was up to the task. But once their clothes were back on, all she was to him was one of his subjects.

Abbadon had begun to seriously consider leaving Hell altogether. But, where could she go? What would she do? Would Crowley come after her, or would he even care?

Once she'd wrung all the intel out of John that she thought he had to give, Abbadon had a couple of her minions come and get him. She'd left him in one piece, more or less, although he was in almost unbearable agony. But just in case they needed to go back to the well, Abbadon instructed that John's wounds should be treated, but very gradually. That way, he would become improved enough to torture again, but he would also be in constant pain.

"So, what did our Gospel writer have to report?" Crowley asked Abbadon, pouring her a drink.

She made herself frown. "Nothing."

He eyed her. "What do you mean, 'nothing'?"

"Just what I said," she said, keeping her voice level. She accepted the drink, taking a sip from the glass.

"So you're telling me that you used your very best techniques on him, and he didn't crack?" Crowley said doubtfully. "I find that very hard to believe."

"Nonetheless, it's true," Abbadon assured him. "I get the feeling he doesn't know very much of anything. He mentioned that this Castiel is a very suspicious individual. That he sees conspiracies everywhere." These latter statements were absolutely true, but the other statements were a lie. John had been a veritable fund of information, given the right incentive. But Abbadon had her reasons for not sharing this with the King. "I think we're wasting our time with the smaller fish," she continued. "Why don't you send me topside, so that I can get the information from the source?"

Crowley regarded her with a raised eyebrow. "Do you mean from Castiel?"

Who the hell did he THINK she meant? The Pope? Although, from what Abbadon had heard, the head Angel was very much like that individual, or at least, he fancied himself just as holy. But Abbadon had yet to meet the man, or woman, for that matter, who could resist her when she turned on her powers of seduction. If this Castiel was a dried-up old prune, like most of the Angels were, she could just close her eyes and fantasize about some of her steamier encounters with Crowley. The King of Hell may be a sexist despot, but he sure knew how to show a girl a good time, when he really applied himself to the job.

Abbadon waited for Crowley to consider her offer. If she said anything more, he would probably just reject the idea out of hand, because he hadn't been the one to come up with it, first. Men. She restrained herself from rolling her eyes, but just barely. It was a damn good idea, and she knew that Crowley knew that.

He did, yet the King hesitated to give his blessing, pun fully intended. That had been another wasted gem. He should really be writing these down. But it wasn't ego that was making him hesitate. Astonishingly, it was plain, old-fashioned jealousy. As much as it pained Crowley to admit, and it really, truly did pain him, he had to face reality. Abbadon was a beautiful, sexy woman, who could seduce anyone any time she chose. Castiel acted like a sexless, lemon-sucking Priest, but he owned a very good-looking vessel. It wasn't too hard to do the math. Unless Castiel was made of stone, like so many of his brother's religious statues, Abbadon might be opening the biggest can of worms since Creation, when their Father had wriggled His little finger and made the first two planets collide. Castiel was an ancient being, as old as time, who had never even touched a woman. The analogy of two planets colliding might be extremely apt, in this instance. How badly did Crowley want to throw his brother off his game, anyway? And how much did he care for Abbadon, and her safety? There was a very real chance that Castiel could kill her, one way, or the other.

There was that unexpressed wit, again. It really wasn't fair. In the movies, the supervillains had sycophantic sidekicks, who appreciated their jokes. He sighed. Sex was great, of course, but there was something to be said for a good, old-fashioned bootlicking.

"Very well, my pet," Crowley said to Abbadon now. He considered that a term of endearment, and she supposed he even meant it that way. But it set her teeth on edge. She was not his little lap dog. But she kept her mouth shut, because he was about to give her what she wanted most: her freedom. "You may go to Earth," Crowley told her. "I will call Castiel on the Hotline to advise him that you are looking for the Portal to Heaven, because you are a traitor."

Abbadon looked at him sharply. "Why would you tell him that? He'll just have me killed!"

"No, he won't," Crowley said calmly, pouring them both another drink. "I'll tell you exactly how that conversation is going to go." He cleared his throat. "'What do you want, Crowley?'" the King of Hell said, imitating his brother's gravelly voice. "'Well, hello, Castiel. How are you, this fine day?'" Crowley said lightly. He was playing himself now, but using an exaggeratedly chipper, upbeat tone. "'Never mind that'," Crowley snapped, warming to his role as Castiel. "'What do you want, you disgusting abomination?'" Crowley pouted. "'Words hurt, Castiel. Don't your lot have Sensitivity Training in Heaven?'"

He looked at Abbadon. She was sitting there, expressionless. Nary a smile. Her ruby-red lips hadn't even twitched. He sighed, wondering if the routine would be funnier with sock puppets.

"I will tell Castiel that he should kill you, thereby ensuring that he won't," Crowley said in a clipped tone, abandoning the comedy routine. "I will tell him that you were one of my closest associates, but now you are a traitor, and that you should die. Castiel will recognize a golden opportunity. He is a sour-faced, objectionable individual, but he is shrewd. He will take you alive, because he will want to mine the gold in your pretty little head. And, because he does not trust any of his men, he will insist on interrogating you himself. Just the two of you, alone. And that's when you will go into your Sharon Stone act."

Abbadon was puzzled. "My what?"

Crowley sighed again. "Never mind. Anyway, go ahead and do whatever you're going to do. Report back to me afterwards."

And that was it. Just like that, he was letting her go. Still, she sat there for a moment, wondering if there was a catch.

Of course there was, but she was not going to be privy to it. "Off you go," Crowley said, waving his hands dismissively. "Don't forget to pack that low-cut red number, with the slits up to here. He'll really like that one."

Abbadon regarded him for another moment, and then she rose and left his office.

Crowley waited a few beats, and then he took out the Hotline. He advised Castiel about Abbadon's imminent arrival on Earth.

"Why are you telling me this?" Castiel said. Crowley could hear the suspicion in his voice. Perfectly understandable.

"Because she thinks she's coming to get information on your operations for me," the King replied smoothly. "She plans to get you alone, and seduce the state secrets right out of you. If you want, I can send an emissary, with a picture of her. Or you could just move into the current millennium, and get yourself a computer."

"I repeat: Why are you telling me this?" Castiel said impatiently. "What is your angle?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. Everyone was being such a stick-in-the-mud today. Fine. "She has outlived her usefulness to me. She is a backstabbing, conniving Demon bitch, who thinks she can outsmart the King of Hell. Do with her what you will." Then he slammed down the phone.

A moment later, Crowley began to smile, picturing Abbadon applying all of her feminine wiles, trying to get a rise out of Castiel. All entendres intended. He knew his brother inside and out. Abbadon was going to strut into that interrogation room in her sluttiest, most disgusting, most delectable outfit, and she was going to get exactly nowhere. Castiel was a stone idol, a false god, and the very image of prudish self-denial. He was going to carve Abbadon up like a jack 'o' lantern. And the best part was that Crowley had led Castiel to believe that Abbadon would have a wealth of information on Hell's operations to divulge before she died. The Torture Mistress would meet her match in Heaven's Torture Master, and she would die a very painful death, having divulged nothing. His smile widened. Fornication was one thing, but no one screwed the King. No one.

He poured himself another drink.

VIGNETTE - CAN'T FIGHT THE MOONLIGHT

Becky had finally figured out a way to be able to interact with Professor Sam Winchester. Sure, she served him drinks at Lyman's, when he sat at the bar or at one of her tables. But they usually only had time to exchange a couple of pleasantries, or make a little small talk about the weather. Then she would have to rush off and fetch more drinks or some bar food for other customers, or he would look politely away, discouraging further conversation.

It was crazy. She knew Sam was married, with a couple of kids. He'd told Becky that. He'd even shown her pictures of his family, and of his brother Dean, and their wives. Boy, did Sam ever have good genes. He and his brother were as handsome as anything, their wives were beautiful, and Sam's kids were so cute. It made Becky feel sad, and achy. She would never have a family like that. Never. She knew she was pretty, and customers asked her out all the time, but there was no guy that interested her. She'd come close to going out with that Gabriel guy once, after he'd asked her out for the umpteenth time. He was quirky, and he was funny, and he was certainly persistent. But in the end, Becky had turned him down, too. She liked the idea of Gabriel more than she liked Gabriel. Did that even make sense?

Becky had allowed herself to become obsessed with Sam Winchester again, and this time, it was even worse, because in this reality, he had a wife and kids. But Becky kept telling herself that what she had was just an infatuation. A harmless crush. If she could just see Sam and listen to him talk a few times a week, what was the harm in that?

So, during one of their casual chats one night, Sam had told Becky that he was going to be teaching a night class in the fall at the university.

"Oh? What on?" Becky asked him.

"'The Lore and Lure of Monsters, And Things That Go Bump In the Night'," Sam replied with a grin. "That's the official working title, anyway." Then his smile faded a bit. "Do you think it's too long?"

"Yeah," Becky answered honestly, and Sam's face fell. "You know what you should call it?" she said quickly, trying to atone for her mistake. "'Monsters, Inc.'"

Sam brightened. "Hey, that's cute, Becky. Mind if I steal it?"

"No, not at all," she stammered, blushing. Sam Winchester had just called her cute. Well, that was the way that Becky had heard it, anyway.

"You should take the class," Sam went on. "It'll be a little scary, but we'll have some fun, too. I plan on throwing some pop culture in there, along with the lore. I've even printed out a few pages of a script from one of those cheesy teenage slasher movies that we can act out. Maybe for Hallowe'en."

"That sounds great, but I don't know if I'm up to taking a course at the university," Becky said self-deprecatingly. "There's a reason I'm just a cocktail waitress, you know."

"Nonsense," Sam said, shaking his head. "Never put limits on yourself, Becky. You can do anything you want to do, if you just apply yourself. That's what I tell my kids. I wanted to be a Professor, so I'm a Professor. But as interesting as ancient cultures are, I've always been fascinated with supernatural mythology, too. So even though it'll cut into my drinking time - " he grinned " - I decided that it was something I wanted to do. Think about it, Becky."

Then he looked away, and Becky had to move on. But her head was spinning now. This could be just the thing for her. It would be another way to see Sam, and to get to know him a little better. Becky had never been a big fan of academics, but this sounded like it could be fun. At least she would get to look at Sam, and see him smile. When he had grinned a moment ago, she had just about melted into a puddle on the floor. Becky just had to see more of Sam looking like that. He had no idea how handsome he looked when he smiled.

Becky made up her mind; she was taking that class. No matter what she had to do, she was taking that class.

Sam was nervous on that first night. What about if no one showed up? Just because he was keen on the subject, that didn't mean that others were, too. The students he taught during the day attended class because they were required to, as part of the curriculum. But this was a much more fanciful subject, and many people who signed up for night courses were using their precious time off work or with their families to go. Sam himself was missing time with Quinn and the kids, but she had encouraged him to teach the class because she knew how keen he was on the subject matter. That was also why Sam's wife didn't say much about him stopping by that bar for Happy Hour a couple of times a week. She knew he needed the outlet.

The younger Winchester had roped Dean into coming to his first night's class. Sam's big brother had rolled his eyes and teased him about needing his hand held, but truthfully, Dean was kind of interested in the subject, too. He liked to razz his brother about being a nerd when Sam talked about ancient artifacts and civilizations, but deep down, the elder Winchester was really proud of Sam. He was the smartest guy Dean knew, and now, he had a cool hobby, too.

The brothers were still close, of course, because to be otherwise would be unthinkable to them. But because they hadn't ever had to deal with all of the death and the blood and the horror associated with monsters, Demons, and, yes, even Angels, in real life, their relationship had never been under any significant strain. The two of them hung out because they preferred to, not because circumstances had thrown them together. Dean didn't mind being here for moral support. In fact, he was looking forward to hearing about all the cool, scary monsters.

Becky walked in with another girl, and Sam greeted her, asking who her friend was.

"We're not actually friends," Becky hastened to explain. Then she looked at the other girl, who was frowning at her. "Oh. Sorry," Becky said insincerely. Dean smirked. He would have to ask Sammy who the blunt chick was, at the first break. Maybe she was one of Sammy's students.

Another half-dozen people filed into the classroom, and then a short young woman came hurrying in, followed by a tall guy.

"What's the rush?" Frank said to his sister.

"I hate being late," Gail said impatiently. "I don't know why you have to drive around the parking lot five times to try and find the closest spot. You waste so much time! We've got legs, you know."

"My knee hurts," Frank complained. "Matty and I fell running for a bus, in London. I told you that."

"You fell off a barstool," she retorted.

Sam and Dean were grinning at each other. "Husband and wife," Dean said to his brother.

"Sister and brother," Sam said affably. "Ten bucks."

"You're on," Dean said. He looked at the siblings. "So, which is it?"

Frank smirked. "Little sister," he said, pointing down at Gail. "Literally, and figuratively."

"Pay up," Sam said, extending his hand to Dean. He smiled at Gail. "Why don't you sit in the front? That way, you won't have to crane your head, to look around your brother."

"I think he's saying you have a big, fat head," Gail said, poking her brother. She plunked herself down in one of the front desks, beside Becky.

"I don't know what you're so worried about," Frank said, taking the seat behind his sister. "This guy's so tall you can see him from outer space."

Once everyone had arrived, Sam looked around, pleased. There were 17 people in the class. That was about fifteen more than he'd expected, he joked to the class, and they all laughed softly.

Frank was bemused. When he'd come back from Europe, his and Gail's parents had told him that his sister had been moping around all summer. At first, he'd rolled his eyes. Why should it be up to him to cheer her up? But he'd knocked on her door to talk to her anyway, and the fact that she had aged nearly fifteen chronological years since he had last seen her didn't even register, because God Himself had made the change.

Gail had been thrilled to see her brother, but she had also been reluctant to tell him what had happened with Castiel. Now, in addition to feeling sad about it, she felt angry, with a heaping helping of humiliation on the side. But finally, Frank wore her down, and she ended up spilling her guts.

Frank felt bad for his sister, but he also realized there wasn't much he could really say about it. "Guys are just a-holes, sometimes," he told his sister. "Forget about him. You'll meet lots of other guys."

She looked at her brother with a baleful expression. Gail knew he was just trying to be nice, but he had no idea. She'd tried everything she could think of to forget about Castiel, but it was impossible. Every time she laid down to go to sleep, she saw him. Every time she saw a good-looking actor on TV, it was him. She'd abandoned her King Arthur and the Round Table story shortly after the experience, but Gail had still felt the urge to write. So she'd tried a story about the Salem Witch Trails, but her handsome protagonist ended up being Castiel, again. He was a dashing, manly sailor, who was going to fall in love with a free-spirited colonist on their way to the New World. But when they got there, they were going to be falsely accused of witchcraft. What would happen to them after that? Gail wasn't sure, and she wasn't even sure that she should continue on with her endeavour. Wasn't she just tormenting herself by continuing to write about a guy she would never see again?

Gail was happy that Frank was back, but their parents were pushing them to make some choices about their lives, now. That was pretty easy for Frank. He had decided that he really didn't want to pursue a higher education. What for? So that he could be some suit behind a desk, tippy-tapping at a computer all day? No. Frank was a man of action. He was more interested in a hands-on kind of job, ideally working on classic cars, in some form. That was fine, his dad had said, encouraging Frank to pursue his interest.

What was Gail going to do? her mother had asked then, and she shrugged. It beat the hell right out of her, Gail thought. But, since Frank had opened up about what really interested him, she supposed she would, too: "I'd like to be a writer," the young woman told her parents.

They looked at her, expressionless. This was shakier ground. They didn't want to be the type of parents who stomped on their childrens' dreams, but at least Frank's had been realistic.

But this reincarnation of Gail had the doe eyes too, and she used them on her parents now. So Jim and Christina had exchanged glances and then they had told their daughter that they would be willing to subsidize her for a year, to give her an opportunity. Frank, too. But if by next fall, either or both of their children had not achieved some sort of financial independence in their chosen fields, they would have to capitulate, and get more pedestrian jobs. Frank had quickly agreed; he saw no problem with that arrangement. If he could even get his foot in the door at the kind of place he was looking for, he could just sweep the floors and help keep the shop floor clean, until the boss gave him a chance to show what he could do.

Gail had been a little more reticent about her own situation, because she knew that it was the longest of long shots. She might have a fanciful imagination as far as story ideas went, but she could also distinguish fantasy from reality. Whenever she went to the library or a bookstore, there were thousands upon thousands of books there, and there were even more online. What would make hers stand out from all of those?

So the siblings had gladly taken the deal, and Gail had begun the research. Frank was teasing her, telling her that historical fiction was boring, and romance was for "girly girls". Why didn't she write mysteries, or horror?

"Horror?" Gail had said incredulously. "What the hell would I know about that? Who am I, Stephen King?"

Frank rolled his eyes. "Since when do you have to be a man to write horror? Mary Shelley ring a bell?"

Gail laughed. "True enough. And I even have my own Frankenstein, right here."

"Oh, har, har. I hope your plots are more original than your jokes," Frank had retorted.

But he'd gotten his sister thinking. Maybe a change in genre WAS in order. She didn't know much about horror, but she could do research, couldn't she? At least she wouldn't be thinking about Castiel anymore. Unless she was going to make him into a sexy vampire, or something, Gail thought, making herself laugh. That was the first time she'd been able to have a laugh about that whole fiasco, and it felt good. It felt freeing. Some of the tightness around her chest loosened when she was able to find humour in the situation. No; no vampires. That genre had been done to death. Or Undeath, maybe. She laughed again. Unless she made him into a big, green, blobby monster, or something. Then again, that might be just what he deserved.

Gail had seen the posting for Sam Winchester's class online, and she thought it could be ideal for her purposes. The problem was, she didn't drive, and the University was a two-bus ride from their home, returning late at night through a dicey part of town.

"Why don't you get Aurielle to take you?" Frank had asked her. "The two of you could be study buddies."

But Gail had frowned. "She and I aren't really friends anymore," she told her brother. It was true. The two young women had started to drift apart right after the night they'd met Castiel and Gabriel. Aurielle had been sympathetic to her friend at first, but when Gail couldn't seem to let go, Aurielle had berated her, and then she'd stopped taking Gail's calls. For her part, Gail could kind of understand that. But she hadn't been able to help herself. Aurielle had extended a couple of half-hearted invitations to parties that her college friends were hosting, but Gail hadn't really been able to get up the energy or the motivation to pretend like she was interested.

Frank had sighed. He knew That Look. "Hey, I'll tell you what," he'd said casually. "Since it was my idea for you to write about that junk in the first place, I guess I could go with you."

As he had expected, her face lit up. "Great! I'll sign us up right away!" his sister said, and then she'd hurried out of the room as if afraid he'd change his mind if she remained. But Frank didn't mind. He actually thought that the class might be pretty interesting.

So here they were now, listening to Sam as he gave the class a brief outline of the kinds of things he planned to cover in the course. Becky just sat there staring at Sam, Gail took copious notes, and Frank and Dean cracked jokes. Dean invited the brother and sister for a coffee after class, after finding out about Frank's interest in classic cars. Sam went with them, and he and Gail talked about literature and ancient civilizations. And, just like that, the four of them became fast friends, and the nucleus of their family had begun to regenerate.

VIGNETTE - DON'T STOP BELIEVING

Castiel washed Abbadon's blood from his hands slowly and methodically, checking his clothing for errant spots. He didn't see any, but perhaps he would change clothes anyway, once he finished working for the day.

But as he began to dry his hands, Cas paused. He had taken no particular pleasure or satisfaction from killing Abbadon. She was an abomination, of course, as all Demons were. However, it had become clear to him within a few short minutes of the start of the interrogation that she had no new information for him. Crowley had merely set her up for slaughter, because she had outlived her usefulness to him. The woman was obviously conniving, and Castiel knew that his brother would not harbour a traitor in his bosom, any more than Castiel would in his. The difference was that the King seemed to find it amusing to send his scraps to Castiel to dispose of. The two of them were going to have to have a little chat about that, very soon. Castiel was not Crowley's employee, nor one of his minions.

Castiel had had no compunctions about killing Abbadon, though, because of what she was. But it had been a quick and efficient kill, once he'd found out that there was no information to torture out of her. Despite what many Angels seemed to believe, Castiel was not a bloodthirsty or sadistic individual. Nor was he an automaton, although he allowed people to believe these things about him in order to stave off any sort of sedition. But being constantly suspicious of everyone around you was very wearisome at times, and Castiel was feeling despondent now.

He had been sickened by Abbadon's initial attempts at seduction. Perhaps his brother was that easy to manipulate, but Castiel was not. The Demon had been barely clad, looking like a harlot. Did she really think that Castiel could be swayed by that sort of appearance, and behaviour?

She had abandoned her efforts once he had been firm with her, but even thinking about it now made Castiel feel decidedly unclean. So, instead of proceeding to his office as he normally would have, he continued on to his living quarters, instead. There, he took a long shower, dressed in the Earthly clothing that Gabriel had given him, and put some cologne on.

Castiel called Gabriel on Angel Radio, asking his Brother if he had a moment for a chat. Gabriel was surprised. The two of them hadn't really had anything to do with each other since Gabe's failure to thaw Cas out of the deep freeze. He was too curious not to answer the summons.

When Gabriel popped over to Cas's apartment, he was amazed by his Brother's appearance. And the shock deepened when Castiel cleared his throat and said, "I want you to take me to Happy Hour."

"I'm stressing out," Gail said to her brother. "I have no idea what kind of monster to put in my midterm composition."

Frank looked at her dubiously. "You're kidding, right? This is a night class. It's not War And Peace, or The Shining. It's a three-page short story that's supposed to be mildly entertaining, and show that you might have learned a thing or two. AND, it's gonna be graded by one of our best friends. So, where's the stress?"

"What kind of a teacher would I be, if I showed a bias to my students?" Sam said, sitting down next to them.

"My kind," Frank quipped, accepting the beer that Sam had brought him.

"I don't think either of you have to worry," Sam said affably, as Dean sat down on the other side of Gail, putting a fresh drink in front of her. "Next one's on you," Dean told Frank. "Although, I might just have to give you a raise. We made a lot of money on that Camaro."

"I wouldn't say no to a bump, but I just appreciate you giving me the chance to work on it," Frank said, tipping his beer in salute.

"Hey, you guys should have one of those reality shows," Gail said to the men, smiling.

As the quartet continued to banter, Gabriel and Castiel walked into the bar. Gabe had been surprised when his Brother had told him that he wanted to come to Earth to have a few drinks and unwind. But then when Cas had added that he wanted to go to the Rogue Angel, Gabriel had gotten it.

"She won't be there, Cas. That was months ago," Gabriel said. "And even if by some miracle she IS there, what are you gonna say to her?"

"I have to see her, Gabriel. I have to apologize to her, from the bottom of my heart," Cas said earnestly.

"Oh, so you DO have one. I always kind of wondered about that," Gabriel retorted.

"Please don't joke about this, Gabriel," Castiel had said to the Archangel. "Please. I need your help."

Well, if Cas was going to put it that way, Gabe supposed he had no choice. So here they were, and for a wonder, there was Gail. But the only problem was that she was sitting at a table with three tall, strapping, good-looking men. Wow. She sure hadn't let any grass grow under her feet. Good for her.

Castiel was frozen. He had absolutely no idea what to do. Had he honestly thought that Gail was going to be sitting here pining away for him, when he had treated her so shabbily? Now here she was, with other suitors. He watched them for a minute. None of the men was sitting close to her, or holding her hand. But all four of them were laughing and chatting amiably with each other. It was funny, really; any or all of those men could be potential rivals, yet Castiel felt no hostility towards them. They had open, friendly expressions, and Gail seemed to be enjoying their company very much. It was Castiel and Gabriel who were the outsiders in this situation.

Gabriel was looking at his Brother now, and the Archangel was shaking his head. He had never seen an expression like that on Castiel's face before. If those board members could only see him now. He looked like an orphaned puppy that had been sleeping outside all night, in the rain. Aww, geez.

Gabe grabbed Cas by the arm and propelled him towards the table where the four of them were sitting. It was time to take matters into their own hands. "Hey, look who's here," the Archangel said loudly.

Gail looked up, and her eyes widened for a moment. Then she looked away, taking a sip of her drink.

Gabriel poked Castiel, and his Brother swallowed the growing lump in his throat. "Hello, Gail," he said stiffly. "May I talk to you for a moment, please?"

"Why?" she said, still not looking at him.

Cas was at a loss for words. Her companions were looking at him with curiosity, and he had no idea what to say. "Please," he repeated.

"Do you know this guy?" Frank said to his sister, still eyeing the Angels. Then, it occurred to him: "Is that Castiel?"

Gail kicked her brother under the table. Why would he say that out loud? Gail didn't want Cas to know that she had spoken to anyone about him. How embarrassing.

Sam and Dean had no idea what was going on, of course. Gail felt like they were her friends, but she wasn't prepared to confide something so personal to them. But Dean was looking at Frank, who was glaring at Cas now, and the elder Winchester's wind was up. "Is everything OK?" he asked the siblings.

But then, Gail made the mistake of looking at Cas. He was looking so forlorn that her heart softened a bit. She sighed. "Go ahead, then. Talk," she said to him.

"Would you please sit at another table with me?" Cas said to her. "I need to talk with you alone."

She frowned, but she rose from her chair, picking up her drink. Frank lifted an eyebrow to his sister. "You gonna be OK?" he asked her.

"Fine, Frank. I'll be fine," Gail assured her brother.

She and Cas walked over to another table nearer to the side wall of the place as the mens eyes followed the couple. Then Frank's gaze turned to Gabriel. "Friend of yours?" he asked the Archangel, with an edge to his voice.

"More like an acquaintance, actually," Gabriel said glibly. "Can I buy you fine gentlemen a drink?"

Cas pulled Gail's chair out for her, and once they were seated, he said, "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she said quickly. "Good. Very busy." There was a pause, and then she said, "How are you?" She wasn't sure if she really cared, but her parents had raised her to be polite.

"I'm terrible. Miserable," Cas said, subconsciously echoing her speech pattern. "I'm so very, very sorry about the way I behaved. I should not have left you, that day. Would you please forgive me?"

Gail shrugged. She was trying to be casual, but her heart was beating a mile a minute, now. In the movies and on TV, whenever the man pissed off the woman, she would act as if she didn't care. "Sure. Whatever," she said, taking a sip of her drink.

"Which of those men is your suitor?" Castiel asked her. "Or is it all three?"

"My what?" Gail said, her forehead wrinkling. Oh. Right. "You don't have to talk like that. I'm not writing about Camelot any more," she told him. She pointed to Frank. "That's my brother, and those are our friends, Sam and Dean Winchester. They're brothers."

Oh, Cas thought, relieved. Friends. Her brother. He let out the breath he'd been holding. "I have not been able to think of anything else but you, ever since that day," Castiel told her.

Gail regarded him dubiously. "Is that so? Then why didn't you come back? I came here every day after that, for two weeks straight! If you felt so bad about it, why didn't you come back?" Oh, crap. She hadn't meant to tell him that. Now she was going to look like a pathetic loser.

Somewhat surprisingly, Cas smiled. "You did?" He felt warm inside. She did love him, after all. Then he surprised her again. "May I hold your hand, just for a moment?" Cas said shyly.

Gail was staring at him. "What? Why?" she said suspiciously.

Castiel was tongue-tied again. She was right. He had no business asking her for such a personal gesture. But he needed very badly to see if she was the one. "Please," he said again. "Just for a moment."

Gail sighed once more. What the hell. Considering the way she'd let him kiss her when they'd met here before, it was a pretty tame request. She put her hand on the tabletop.

Cas looked at it for a second, and then he scooped it up with his hand. Gabriel looked over at them. Oh, geez. Cas was holding her hand. Humans had no idea what that meant to Angels, especially Angels of Castiel's and Gabriel's era. It was a deeply intimate activity. Gabe had had sex with some females whose hands he would never have held.

"What's the deal with your friend there, anyway?" Frank asked the Archangel, frowning. "I don't want him screwing around with my sister."

Gabriel sighed. "He's not, Frank-en-burger. He's not that kind of a guy."

"Furter," Sam said, his lips twitching.

"Huh?" Gabe said, puzzled.

"You said 'Frank-en-burger'. Wouldn't 'Frank-en-furter' be the joke?"

As Gabriel continued to stare at the younger Winchester, Dean nudged Frank. "Maybe he doesn't like weiners, Sammy," he said, smirking. "Although, come to think of it, I've never seen Frank with a girlfriend."

"Oh, I get it," Gabriel said slowly, as the light dawned. "It's funny, because a frankfurter is a weiner."

Sam and Dean laughed. "Hey, he said it, not me," Sam said, grinning.

Frank shook his head, still eyeing Cas. "What kind of a guy IS he, then?" he asked the Archangel.

As Gabriel was trying to formulate an answer to that question, Cas and Gail were still holding hands.

"You're my person," he told her. Gail's hand fit perfectly in his, like interlocking pieces of a puzzle. "You and I were meant to be together. I place you above all others," Cas went on.

Gail was eyeing him again. Sure. Right. He'd said stuff like that to her before, and then, he had taken off. "What do you do for a living, Cas?" she said suddenly. "Really. You're not a CEO, are you?"

He sighed. "No. No, I'm not."

Well, at least he was being honest. "Are you a gangster?" she persisted.

"Am I a..." Cas was taken aback. A gangster? She was asking him if he was a criminal. A thug. He opened his mouth to demur, but then, he thought about that for a minute. Maybe he WAS, in a way. Look at the way he'd been going about his business. "Would you excuse me, please?" he asked her.

Cas reluctantly let go of Gail's hand. He jumped out of his seat and rushed over to Gabriel. "Can I speak to you for a minute?" he asked his Brother.

"Uhh...sure, Cas," the Archangel said, allowing Cas to lead him away from the table. Once they were out of the mens earshot, Gabe turned to Castiel. "What's with you, Cas? You're acting weird, and those guys are suspicious about you, as it is."

"Do you think I'm a thug?" Cas said bluntly.

Gabriel stared at him for a moment. "Who wants to know?" he said slowly.

"Please, Gabriel. I don't have an ulterior motive. I promise," Cas said earnestly. "I need a friend's opinion."

Gabriel let out a breath. "Friend, huh? Well, in that case...yeah, Cas. Yes. You kind of are."

Cas nodded as if he'd known it all along. And, on some level, he had. Killing Demons was one thing, but he had been murdering his own brethren at a disturbing rate, for reasons that were usually dishonourable, or unclear, at best.

"You've got to stop hanging around with guys like Jason," Gabriel went on. He was excited now. Cas might finally be ready to make a real change. What had Gail said to him? Gabe pressed his advantage. "Jason is a selfish, sadistic bastard," he told Castiel. "He's more interested in knocking off your rivals than he is in the truth. And, once they're all gone, who do you think he'll come after next? Jason's not your friend, Cas. I am. And I think Gail and those guys could be, too. I know they're humans, but you've got to give them a chance. I've been on Earth for a while, Cas, and there are some really good ones here." Then, as Cas appeared to be thinking about that, Gabriel grinned. "So...holding hands, eh?"

"I love her, Gabriel," Cas said softly. "Thank you. I know what I have to do, now. Can you please tell Gail I will be right back?"

Then, without waiting for an answer, Castiel did an about-face and headed towards the hallway where the mens' rooms were. Unbelievable. He was doing it again. But at least he had asked Gabe to communicate with Gail this time, and at least it appeared as though he intended to come back, this time.

Gabe sighed, heading towards the table where Gail was sitting, looking confused as anything.

VIGNETTE - IN THE AIR TONIGHT

In another part of the city, in another watering hole, Bobby Singer was nursing his second double bourbon on the rocks. He'd been a little quick with the first one, and he was already feeling its effects. He was looking at a blonde woman who was sitting up at the bar, drinking some kind of a pink lady-drink. She was sitting by herself, playing with the little plastic umbrella that must have come with her drink. Bobby could never understand that. What the hell were you supposed to do with something like that, once you'd taken it out of the glass? Hold it over your head when it rained?

The woman was cute, and she was wearing a skirt that had a slit in the side. It had fallen open to reveal a glimpse of creamy thigh, and Bobby was fascinated by that glimpse. It had been way too long for him.

Once he'd finished his drink, Bobby had worked up the nerve to approach her. It had been a while for this, too. "Hi, I'm Bobby," he said to her.

"Hi, Bobby. I'm Abigail," Rowena's protegee said pleasantly.

"Mind if I buy you another?" he asked her, taking the barstool next to hers.

Abigail was startled. She almost looked behind her. She had never had a man approach her in a bar like this before. She guessed that Rowena had been right; if she dressed a little more provocatively, she might land a few fish. So to speak.

"Mind?" she said, smiling slowly. "No, not at all." As Bobby signaled to the bartender, she said, "So, what do you do, Bobby?"

He had the stock answer all ready to go: "I'm in insurance." It wasn't like he was lying. Well, not exactly. He was in the business of insuring that monsters were dead. Close enough. Then he smiled. "But don't worry, I'm not gonna sell you a policy, or anything," he assured Abigail. The drinks came, and Bobby raised his glass. "Good to meet you, Abigail. Tell me about yourself. What do YOU do?"

Hex people, she thought. "I work in the recording industry," she told him, touching his glass with hers.


	9. Chapter 4 - Stay Awhile

Chapter 4 - Stay Awhile

"Lover Boy is here!" Frank announced loudly, hearing the knock on the front door.

"Frank!" Gail exclaimed, running down the stairs from the second floor.

He was smirking. "Way to play hard to get, there, kiddo."

"Frank is right," Christina said disdainfully. "Go back upstairs. Your father and I want to meet this man, first. Come downstairs in ten minutes, and walk like a lady when you do."

"OK, Mom," Gail said, rolling her eyes. Christina was already moving to the door, but Frank grinned. Gail hated it when their mother lectured her on being a lady, calling it a double standard. Frank guessed she kind of had a point there; he himself never got lectures about how to act like a man.

Christina opened the door. Cas stood there on the porch. "Good evening," he said to her. "I am here to call on Gail." She looked him up and down. So far, Castiel passed muster. He was dressed in a nice suit, he was clean-shaven and his hair was neatly combed. His shoes were even shined. He was carrying a bouquet of flowers, and something in a gift bag.

"Come in," Gail's mother said, opening the door wider.

Cas entered the house, after wiping his shoes on the mat outside. Frank was at the foot of the stairs. No way was he missing this. But he had to admit that so far, Cas was ticking all the boxes.

"Hello, Frank," Cas said pleasantly.

"Those are lovely flowers," Christina remarked. "I'm sure that Gail will love them."

"They're not for her, they're for you," Cas said, extending the bouquet to her. Then he gestured with the gift bag. "As is this. Or, more accurately, it's for you and your husband, both. Gail tells me that both of you like coffee. This is a fine Ethiopian blend that I favour, myself. Please accept these gifts as a token of my esteem."

Another box ticked, Frank thought with amusement. His mom liked wine, too, but she was kind of picky about it. Plus, she would have thought it was bad manners for a man who was dating her daughter to bring booze to the house. Go figure.

Jim came out to the hallway now, and there were more introductions. He invited Cas to come into the living room while Christina took the flowers and coffee into the kitchen. Frank followed the men into the living room. He was intrigued by this Cas guy. Ever since Gail had decided to give him another chance, Cas had called her on the phone every day until she'd relented and agreed to go out on a date with him. By now, Frank guessed that Gail had filled Cas in on how old-fashioned their mom was about that kind of junk. As long as Gail lived under their roof, etc., etc. His sister's year would be up soon, and she was no closer to becoming a professional author than when she'd first broached the idea. Frank was making a good living himself now, working in Dean Winchester's garage restoring classic cars, just like he'd always wanted to do. But Gail was having a hard time realizing her dream. Life wasn't perfect, sometimes. Frank was ready to move out and get his own place, but Gail was pretty much broke. Sam had told her he might be able to get her a job at the University, but he couldn't make any promises.

Christina brought out a tray with coffee cups and saucers, sugar, cream, and some cookies. "I took the liberty of opening the package of coffee you brought," she told Cas. "I made a pot. It'll be ready in a couple of minutes."

"Thank you," he said, inclining his head in acknowledgement. "I'll look forward to your opinion."

Damn, he was good, Frank thought. But the interrogation wasn't over, yet.

"What do you do for a living, Castiel?" Jim asked Gail's gentleman caller.

Cas had an answer all ready to go for that one. And it was the truth, too. He would just be omitting one small detail. "I'm in the family business," he replied smoothly. "My father left me in charge as the CEO while he went travelling, but that job didn't suit me. I was working long hours, and I didn't like who I became once I succumbed to the stresses of the position. So, I resigned."

"So you're unemployed, then," Jim said, and Frank winced internally.

Cas's lips twitched. "I suppose you could put it that way. But if you are concerned about my financial situation, please don't be. Thanks to my position in the hierarchy, I have unlimited funds."

"Really?" Frank wisecracked. "Can you loan me a couple of grand?"

"Grand...what?" Castiel asked him, confused.

Jim was sitting back in his chair, regarding Cas cooly. So, this guy was a spoiled heir to a fortune, whose father had set him up to take some responsibility. But he hadn't liked the taste of real work, so he'd formulated an answer to the employment question that would contain the correct verbiage. How could anyone object to the poor snowflake having resigned a position that was so stressful it threatened to put a wrinkle or two on that handsome, unlined face? Or gave him a few grey hairs, or an ulcer? Heaven forbid. No, that kind of thing was left to guys like Jim. Guys who had family obligations, and a sense of responsibility.

"'Castiel'. What an unusual name," Christina remarked. What he'd said about his family and his employment situation hadn't bothered Gail's mother. She was a stay-at-home housewife, who'd led a very sheltered existence. She had no idea what a stressful workplace was like. Therefore, her takeaway had been that Castiel was obviously the heir to a family fortune. Maybe Gail wouldn't need to worry about getting a job, after all. Of course that kind of thinking was premature. But it was comforting, at any rate.

Cas was ready for that one, too. "He is the Angel of Thursday. My family is very religious, and I was born on a Thursday."

Christina smiled. She and Jim weren't particularly religious themselves, but she looked on the fact that Castiel's family was as further evidence that they were decent people, and it appeared as though they had raised their son the same way. "That's lovely," she told him. "Excuse me, while I check on the coffee."

Christina stood from her chair, and Castiel stood up too, of course. Gail's mother smiled again when he did that.

As Christina practically floated out of the room, euphoric at Castiel's old-world manners, Gail came walking into the room. Cas had started to take his seat again, but he straightened up quickly and remained standing.

Frank smirked widely. He pictured inviting about twenty or so women over, and having them come in and out of the room constantly, making Cas bob up and down till he got dizzy. There was a new child's toy in there somewhere, Frank was sure. A Cas-In-The-Box? Queasy Queasy Castiel? He'd have to refine that, but he was sure that there was comedy gold to be mined there.

Gail was staring at Cas. Then she looked down at herself. "Boy, am I underdressed," she remarked. She was wearing her usual jeans. "Are we going someplace fancy, or something?"

"I apologize," Cas said to her, and Frank could swear that the guy bowed, a little. He tried to keep from rolling his eyes. Now Cas was overdoing it.

Cas was distressed. He hadn't thought about how she might be dressed. Of course she would be wearing pants, instead of a dress. She was a modern woman. "That is entirely my fault," Cas said to her. "I can cancel the reservation and change clothing, if you would prefer to go somewhere else."

"That's not necessary," Christina said, bringing the coffeepot into the living room. "Gail can put on a dress."

Gail looked at her mother for a moment, but Christina was pouring the coffee. Predictably enough, Frank was smirking, enjoying the show. Gail threw her brother a glare, and then flounced out of the room.

Cas stared after her for a moment. Was she angry with him? He was unsure. Presumably, she had gone to change clothing. Obviously, Cas had a lot to learn about women.

They drank some coffee and made small talk while they were waiting for Gail to come back. Castiel even had a bit of the coffee, feeling it would be rude to refuse. A few minutes later, Gail returned. She was wearing a simple black dress, and she'd put on shoes with a bit of a heel.

"Wow. Who died?" Frank quipped.

Gail made a face at her brother. "Why are you like that?" she asked Frank.

"Because I'm funny," he told her.

"See, that's where you're wrong," she assured him.

"You look very nice," Cas told her. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Sure," Gail said, nodding. Truthfully, she couldn't wait to get out of there. Her father was frowning, her mother was simpering, and her brother was an ass. Cas had no idea what having such an exasperating family was like, she was sure.

They left the house, and as they were walking down the steps to get to the curb, Gail repeated her latter thought to Cas. He looked at her for a moment, and then he did something he hadn't had occasion to do in a very long time: he threw his head back and laughed out loud. He was still laughing when they began to walk down the street.

Lucifer was restless. His Father had given him a do-over too, because He'd been curious to see what sorts of choices His Son would make if he had a different circumstance. But it seemed as though this version of the Devil was just as aimless and unsatisfied as he'd always been. He had travelled to Europe and parts of Africa, and he was currently in the Caribbean. What should he do next? Where should he go?

Placida saw him sitting on the patio at the resort, and he just had that look about him. Vincent had built a small empire based on that look, alone.

Many things had changed in this new reality, but some had not, although some others were about to. Vincent was not related to Gail or any of the people in that circle, but he still ran the voodoo cult in that part of the world, and Placida had been restored as his de facto first lady. It had not been God's aim to create another Garden of Eden. Life on Earth had a lot of beauty and wonder, but there was pain and ugliness, as well. And sometimes, the latter came disguised as the former.

Placida sat down next to Lucifer, startling him. "I know what you've been looking for," she told him.

"Yeah? What's that?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Vincent," she said mysteriously.

Vincent got Placida's call, and he was waiting in his beachfront cottage for her to bring the new prospect to him. She'd said that the man's name was Bill, and he had been drifting aimlessly, looking for a place to belong.

Those were Vincent's favourite kinds; the drifters who were looking for love, and a sense of belonging. He could offer lots and lots of both, if they were willing to cast off all of their inhibitions.

"Welcome, Bill!" Vincent greeted Satan effusively. "Have a seat outside on the lanai, and Placida and I will bring out some drinks in a minute."

Lucifer went outside, as he had been directed. Placida had been very persuasive. They were one big, loving family, she'd said, putting her hand on his thigh as she spoke. Then that hand had crept up, and then even further up, towards his crotch. Very, very loving, she'd repeated. The islands were a veritable paradise in which to live, and if you were a part of Vincent's family, you received special treatment everywhere you went. Food, drinks, sex...anything your heart desired. There were other things you could do, too, things they could talk about further down the road. But since Vincent was the Papa, he would have to decide if Bill could join the group or not.

"Bill" was intrigued. He kind of had an idea of the sorts of things she was talking about, or at least, he thought he did. She was talking about sex orgies, and the like. Lucifer had been an Angel for his entire existence, and Angels did not do those sorts of things. Not until they were married, anyway, and certainly not with more than one person. But he wasn't married, and he didn't need to worry about anything, did he? He belonged to nothing and no one, and he had no obligations.

"I think he'll do very nicely," Vincent said to Placida. She had given him a brief overview of her conversation with the man who called himself Bill. She got the feeling that wasn't really his name, but that wasn't important. The main thing was whether he would fit in with the family. He seemed open, she told Vincent, and he came with another asset: she handed Papa the wad of cash that Bill had handed over to her. Vincent smiled slowly. Yes, Bill might do quite nicely.

The couple came out to the lanai with the drinks, and after they'd had a few strong ones and talked for a while, "Bill's" pants were undone and Placida was on her knees in front of him. Lucifer had zero problem with that. Vincent had his pants off too, and he'd started off where Placida was. But then, by the time Vincent moved up to where Lucifer's head was, their new acolyte was feeling so good that he didn't object.

Vincent smiled. Yes. "Bill", or whatever his name really was, was going to work out just fine.

VIGNETTE - THE MESSAGE

It had taken forever, but Becky had finally been able to get Sam to agree to meet with her for coffee after class. She had some questions for him about some of the more unusual monsters they were learning about. Sam had been a little bit leery about going. He hadn't become a University professor because he was stupid, nor had he been born yesterday. Sam had dealt with younger girls with crushes before. Usually a polite but firm reminder that he was married with kids was enough to deter them. Usually.

It hadn't really come to that with Becky, but he had the feeling that it might. She sat in the front row of the class, and he could feel her eyes on him constantly. He still went to Lyman's occasionally, because it was closer to the University, but Dean and Frank and Gail seemed to prefer the Rogue Angel, so Sam usually went there instead these days, if they were all going out as a group. He stayed at home with the kids, too, if Quinn wanted to have some nights out with Nicole, or her other girlfriends. Quinn had been curious about Gail when Sam had first started to talk about Frank's sister, but Sam had assured his wife that Gail had no designs on him. She was obsessed with this left-of-centre guy named Cas, who joined them at the bar sometimes. Cas had a friend named Gabriel who would also join them for a drink or two from time to time, and he was a funny, personable guy. Then he would go off somewhere and try to pick up a woman, and they may or may not see him again that night, depending on his level of success.

Quinn had only been half-listening. To her, it all sounded very harmless and quirky, and she really wasn't concerned about Sam's fidelity. He wasn't that type of guy.

But Becky was a separate issue, Sam realized. She seemed like a nice enough girl, but she just had a vibe about her. Sam would have coffee with Becky, and he would help her pass his course, but if she had anything else in mind, she was going to be very disappointed.

Becky did have something else in mind, and she was nervously pacing back and forth now, waiting for something to happen.

Suddenly, a bird trilled loudly, making her jump. Maybe that had been a sign that she shouldn't be here. But did she really need a sign? She was standing at the crossroads, waiting for a Demon from Hell. Of course she shouldn't be here.

But just as she was thinking that, an older man with dark hair and a well-trimmed beard showed up, startling her again.

Crowley's lips twitched at Becky's reaction. It was good to see that some things never changed. As the King, he didn't really have occasion to come out here anymore. He had underlings who did all those things on behalf of the Kingdom. Delegation had its perks, but it also had its drawbacks. They were all eternal beings, with long days to fill. If an organization ran efficiently, there wasn't much left for the individual at the very top of the food chain to do.

So he had taken to popping himself around indiscriminately here and there, just to break up the monotony. And today, when the bell had rung, signifying that there was a summoning at the crossroads, Crowley had attended the call himself. Just for the hell of it.

"What can I do for you, my dear?" he asked young Becky.

She was eyeing him. Was this a practical joke? This guy was wearing a suit and tie, and he talked with a cultured English accent. She wondered if Sam and Dean had set her up. This man didn't look like a Demon at all. He looked like Becky's uncle.

"Are you a Demon?" she asked Crowley.

"I'm not only A Demon, I'm THE Demon," he said smugly. "Crowley, King of Hell, at your service."

Becky was still eyeing him dubiously. "You don't have black eyes, or horns, or a tail..."

"Or a pitchfork, or flames coming out of my arse," Crowley finished dryly. "You humans, and your scatological references. Why on earth would I carry a pitchfork, anyway? Who am I, Farmer John? You'll find that many of us are very much like you humans. Rotten to the core, of course. But, other than that..."

Becky had no idea what to say now. She had been expecting a grinning monster, and instead, she'd gotten Daniel Radcliffe's father. Or grandfather, maybe, Becky thought, peering closer at Crowley's face.

The King sighed. "What do you want?"

"Did Dean put you up to this?" she asked him with suspicion.

Crowley regarded her balefully. "Dean?"

"Dean Winchester. Sam's brother," Becky elaborated.

"Don't know those blokes," he said briskly. "State your business."

"Pardon?" Becky said blankly.

Crowley was beginning to regret this. Deeply. "What? Do? You? Want?" he said through gritted teeth.

"Ohhh," Becky said, as the light dawned. "They said that you can do a deal that would get me what I want."

"Perhaps," Crowley said casually. "That will all depend."

"On what?" Becky asked him.

"On what you bloody well want!" Crowley shouted. His eyes flashed red for a moment.

Incredibly, Becky smiled. That had been her proof that he wasn't just some guy, pulling a practical joke. "I want to be Mrs. Sam Winchester," she said.

Crowley was incredulous. "You came here to do a Demon deal because you want your boyfriend to propose?"

"Oh, no, he's not my boyfriend," Becky assured him. "He's married, and he's got kids."

"And she's a bitch, who won't give him a divorce," Crowley prompted her.

"I didn't say that," she replied hastily. "He wouldn't ask her for one. He's happily married."

Crowley let out a breath. "So, you're the mistress. Why would you want to be his wife, then? Aren't you already getting the best part of the transaction?"

"We've never slept together," Becky informed him. "That's why I want to be his wife."

Crowley shook his head slowly. "How old are you,...?"

"How old am I,...what?" Becky countered.

Flames came out of Crowley's fingertips. "Not what: whom. How old are you, and what is your name?"

"Oh. Well, why didn't you say so?" Becky asked him, totally unaware that Crowley was about two questions away from obliterating her. This wasn't a conversation; this was torture. "My name is Becky, and I'm twenty-five."

"Old enough to know the facts of life, then," Crowley stated in a clipped tone. "You don't have to marry a man to shag him, Becky. We haven't enforced that since the Middle Ages. Even longer ago than that, if you didn't mind being stoned to death, afterwards."

Becky was looking puzzled again, so Crowley took a deep breath. "Seduce him, Becky. Invite him over, ply him with wine, and strip. There aren't too many men who can resist the direct approach."

"But he doesn't even know where I live!" she blurted out. It was just the first thing that had popped into her head. She was kind of freaked out now. He had fooled her with his well-groomed appearance and fancy accent. But his eyes were bright red now, and his hands were on fire.

Crowley snapped. He couldn't take it anymore. Maybe the Archangels had had the right idea all along. He extended his arm and obliterated Becky with the fireball that had been slowly growing out of his fingers. She was gone in two seconds, reduced to a pile of smoky ash that a gust of wind blew away, a moment later.

"You're welcome, Sam Winchester, whoever you may be," Crowley said aloud. He snapped himself down to his office, went to his wall safe, and took out a Demon knife. Then he buzzed for his assistant.

When Jepson came through the door, Crowley handed the man the Demon knife. "You need to do something for me," the King told his personal assistant.

"Yes, Sire? What do you need?" Jepson inquired, taking the knife and glancing at it curiously.

"If I ever tell you again that I'm going to the crossroads in response to a summons from a human, I want you to take that knife, and kill me with it," Crowley instructed him. "Now, get out."

Jepson left the office pocketing the knife, a confused expression on his face.

VIGNETTE - SWEET DREAMS

"The girls are finally down for the night," Carolyn told her husband. "I had to read them Hester's book three times. Thank goodness it's only ten pages long."

"Welcome to SAP Publishers," Mike wisecracked.

"SAP?" Carolyn echoed, getting under the blanket beside him. He had been changing channels with the remote, looking for a movie they could both enjoy.

"Short Attention Span," Mike replied with a grin.

"Ohhh," she said. "Very funny. I'm sure Hester will find it hilarious."

"Why don't I ask Dean if we can bring her to his Christmas party this weekend?" Mike suggested. "There's bound to be a lot of single guys there. He's got a bunch of burly mechanics working at all three of his shops, now. Maybe we can fix her up with Frank; he's managing one of the places. He's a good man. He'll drive you nuts with the bad jokes, but other than that..."

"Bad jokes aren't so bad," Carolyn remarked. "There could be a lot worse qualities in a man."

"Hey! I'm sitting right here," Mike joked, cuddling his wife.

She smiled. "I hope there won't be any homophobes there. Tommy's bringing Barry as his 'plus one'."

"I'm pretty sure it'll be fine, but I'm glad you gave me a heads-up," Mike remarked. "There are a couple of guys around the shop who like to make comments, every now and then. Maybe I'll have Dean talk to them. We don't want your brother and his boyfriend to feel uncomfortable."

"That would be great," Carolyn said, kissing her husband on the cheek. "It sounds like it's going to be a huge party. Tommy and Barry are friends with Dean's brother, from that bar. Dean hasn't even met them, before."

"Dean's a very generous guy," Mike told her. "He's a great boss, too. He's been telling us that he wants to close the shops for two weeks around the holidays, so we can spend more time with our families. And he's gonna have a separate Christmas party for all our kids next week, with presents for them all. Yolie and Emma are going to love it."

"That's terrific," Carolyn enthused. "Do you know if he and Nicole are still trying?"

Now Mike's smile faded a bit. "Guys don't really talk about stuff like that, but I get the feeling that there might be a medical issue there, or something. Let's not mention it, in case it's a sensitive subject. You know how worried we were, before we had the twins."

Carolyn nodded. "Hey, what's on TV?"

Jody pressed the End Call button on her cell phone, smiling faintly. Nicole. Bless her heart. The two women had met at the local breast cancer screening clinic, and they'd struck up a conversation in the waiting room. Nervous jokes about squishing boobs were exchanged, and by the time that Jody was called in, the women had arranged to meet downstairs in the coffee shop, afterwards. They'd had coffee and chatted some more, and discovered that they had a lot in common. Nicole joked that Jody and her officers needed to start overlooking some crimes soon, or take less copious case notes. Nicole worked in the courthouse, and they were absolutely swamped, she said. Of course, with the Christmas break coming up, everybody was trying to file everything as quickly as they could. Jody had laughed and told Nicole that if everybody would just behave themselves, it would be a much more merry Christmas for her, too.

After about an hour, the women had gone their separate ways, but not before Nicole had extended an invitation to her new friend to attend their Christmas party. She and Dean were looking forward to hosting the biggest Christmas bash ever. The guest list kept growing by leaps and bounds, but they didn't care. The more, the merrier. No pun intended. There would be lots of manly men there too, many of whom were single, Nicole had teased Jody. She could tell by reading between the lines that Jody was a lonely woman. Nicole could understand why, in a way. It took a special kind of man to be secure enough to embrace a strong, independent woman. Nicole was lucky; she'd found her special man in Dean. He was a very masculine guy with a soft heart, who encouraged his wife's independence. Nicole had been ambivalent about having children of her own, but since it seemed so important to Dean, she had agreed to try. And boy, was it fun trying. But it didn't seem to be in the cards. The couple made a good living, though, and they had a lot of love to give. So they were going to host a couple of huge parties, including the one for all of Dean's employees' kids.

Nicole had called Jody to remind her about the party, and to make sure that her new friend was going to show up. Jody had been bemused, but she assured Nicole that she would. It was funny, too. She'd been considering just bailing on the whole thing just before Nicole's call. They would have so many people there that she wouldn't be missed. But, on the way to pick up her ringing cell phone, Jody tripped over Dammit. Suddenly, she'd remembered that she'd had the stupid cat for a year, which was longer than any relationship she'd ever had with a man. So when Nicole had asked for confirmation that she would be attending, Jody had given it to her.

"What the hell. Maybe I'll meet the man of my dreams," Jody said to Dammit the cat once she'd hung up her phone. Dammit looked at her balefully for a moment, and then he turned his tail up and walked out of the room.

VIGNETTE - GIRLS JUST WANT TO HAVE FUN

"Mom! What did you do to your hair?" Kevin exclaimed when he picked her up for Dean and Nicole's Christmas party.

"What? What do you mean? What's wrong with it?" she asked her son.

"It's blonde," he pointed out.

"So? Haven't you ever seen an Asian woman with blonde hair before?" she retorted.

"No!" Kevin stated.

"Don't listen to him, Mama, I think it looks great," Paul said, kissing Linda on the cheek.

She pointed her finger at him. "I told you not to call me that. It makes me sound old."

"Sorry, Mama," Paul quipped, and Kevin laughed. Linda sighed, but she was smiling now, too. Paul and Kevin were just so cute together.

"So, are there going to be any good-looking, single guys at this party?" Linda asked the men as they took the elevator downstairs from her suite.

"Now why on earth would you be asking US a question like that?" Paul said, grinning. He took Kevin's hand. "You know we're getting married next year. I only have eyes for your son."

"Yeah, whatever, Paul," Kevin said, rolling his eyes. "There'll be a ton of eligible men there, Mom."

"Good," she said, nodding. "Maybe I'll get a hookup. That's what it's called, right?"

Kevin made a face. "Mom! Yuk! That's disgusting!"

"No, it isn't," she said pertly. "I'm a vibrant, healthy woman. Keep your nose out of it." She turned to Paul. "And don't call me 'Mama', or I'll punch you. Got it?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Paul replied, smirking. He was only teasing Kevin's mother, and she knew it. She was the kind of woman who would get upset if you didn't give her a hard time. "Merry Christmas, Linda," he said to his prospective mother-in-law, kissing her on the cheek.


	10. Chapter 5 - I Believe In Miracles

Chapter 5 - I Believe In Miracles

"Little help, here," Nicole said to her husband.

"Huh?" Dean said, rolling over towards her.

"I need help getting out of bed," she told him. "I swear, this kid's gonna come out as big as Sam is, right now. I can't believe I let you talk me into this. All the people we know, and not one doctor in the bunch. That hospital better keep the drugs coming when this kid comes out; otherwise, I'm going to ask Jody to raid her evidence locker."

Dean grinned. He leaped out of bed and rushed around to the other side to help his wife get up. She was as big as a house, now. It looked like their kid was going to be born around Labour Day, which would be fitting, since they were such hard-working people.

"Easy does it," he said to his wife, as he helped her rise slowly from the mattress.

"You should just install one of your car hoists here, to lift me up," Nicole said, grunting with the effort. "It'd be easier, and I probably weigh more than any vehicle you've ever had on those."

Dean said nothing for a moment, but he was smirking now. "What?" his wife said suspiciously, once she was on her feet.

"Nothing," he said, trying to look innocent. "I was just wondering if there could be another use for the hoist in this room."

"That's what those little blue pills are for," Nicole quipped.

"Yeah, right. As if I need those," Dean scoffed. "I've just been leaving you alone because I know it's a little difficult for you right now. But, just wait. Once you have the baby, it'll be Game On, again."

"Oh, goodie. My favourite game," Nicole said, smiling. She kissed her husband on the mouth, and he wrapped his arms around her as far as they would go. He returned her kiss, teasing her lips with his tongue. "Don't worry, I've got a whole bunch of games lined up for us," he assured her. "It'll be like the Olympics."

Nicole was still smiling. "As much as I'd love you to elaborate on that right now, I have to pee. Again," she added wryly.

She headed off for the bathroom and Dean sat on the edge of the bed, debating whether he wanted to get up, or sleep in. Maybe he should catch up on his rest now, though. Everybody he'd talked to with babies always said that was one thing you couldn't get enough of.

He grinned. Bring it on. Dean Winchester was living the dream. He didn't have to sleep; all he had to do was look at his wife, his friends, his franchise of vehicle restoration shops, and his bank account to know that life didn't get any better than this.

Jody was waking up now too, and she tensed for just a moment when she felt movement behind her. But, just as quickly, she relaxed. It was hard to get used to sleeping with someone again, after so long.

She smiled, rolling over to look at Frank. He was already looking at her, and he reached out to touch her face. "Good morning," he said softly.

"Did you sleep OK?" Jody asked her boyfriend.

"Yeah, till about two-thirty," Frank replied, rolling his eyes. "That was when Dammit jumped on me, and dug his claws into my crotch. For a minute there, I was afraid you were a little kinkier than I thought."

Jody laughed. "Nawww, I usually leave the instruments of torture at the station house."

Frank smiled, but she could tell that there was something on his mind. "What's the matter?" she asked him. Then, she sighed. "It's Gail, isn't it? Or, more specifically, it's Cas. Right?"

"Are you absolutely sure that guy doesn't have a record, Jodes?" Frank asked her.

"Positive," she said. "Nothing on him. Clean as a whistle. He's so clean he's like a space alien, or something. Even YOU'RE not that clean."

"I'll have you know that I shower every day," Frank said primly, and they both smiled. But then his smile faded. "You know what I mean, Babe."

Jody nodded. She did. Of course she did. When you had been a cop as long as she had, you became a shrewd judge of character. There was just something off about Cas. He said and did all the right things, and he treated Frank's sister like a princess. He had old-world manners, almost as if he'd stepped out of a bygone era, or something. Jody had joked to Frank that she wondered if Cas had a DeLorean parked in his driveway, and he had laughed. But that was one of the problems; nobody had ever been to Cas's place, and none of them knew what he did for a living. He claimed that his family had a fortune, but he would disappear for days on end sometimes, with no apparent explanation for where he'd been.

Jody sighed now. "I know you're worried about Gail, but if the guy's treating her OK, and he's not committing any crimes, there's not much we can do. She's a grown woman."

Frank nodded. "I know. You're right. And it's not like there's anything WRONG with the guy. He's just...weird."

Jody laughed softly. "If we locked up everybody who was weird, we wouldn't have any friends."

Frank smirked. "Yeah, but just think of the conjugal visits. And, speaking of which..." He pulled the covers over both of them and grabbed Jody, and she laughed again. How glad she was that she had gone to Dean and Nicole's Christmas party last year. There had been a few interesting guys there, but Frank had stood out. He was tall, good-looking, and manly, without the kind of swagger that usually accompanied that kind of guy. When they'd started talking and Frank found out what Jody did for a living, he'd been fascinated, and not at all daunted. He'd liked her stories, and she'd liked his jokes, and by the end of the evening, they'd made a date for New Years' Eve. And now they were an official couple, two halves of a whole once more.

God was enthralled with the way things had been progressing so far.

He had been very uncertain about the fact that Castiel and Gail were in the process of re-forming their connection, but He'd had to concede that it was certainly preferable to the alternative. When Castiel had asked Gabriel if his Brother thought he was a thug, God had been pleased by the Archangel's response. Castiel HAD been behaving like a common thug. But as soon as Castiel had sought to win Gail's favour, he had resigned his post, and now, Ignatius was chairing the board. Of all of the Angels who could have taken the helm, Ignatius was one of the better ones, in God's opinion.

But there were a lot of situations and relationships that had yet to sort themselves out, and the Father had more pages of the Book to distribute. But in the meantime, it was time that Gail found out the truth.

Hakeem got the call from his contact in Heaven: Castiel and his little human girlfriend were going to be in Lake Nealy in an hour, having a picnic. There would never be a better time. They were going to be in a secluded spot.

Jason hung up the phone, sitting back in his office chair. This had been just the kind of opportunity he had been looking for. This was his shot, his chance to restore order in Heaven. One way, or the other.

He had been beyond astonished when Castiel had called an emergency meeting of the Upper Echelon board nearly one year ago, and told them all that he was resigning, effective immediately. Many of the men had been secretly relieved, of course, and a few of them didn't bother to hide their feelings about it. But Jason hadn't been one of those people. Instead, he had been dismayed, especially when Castiel informed everyone that he would be spending a lot of time on Earth, going forward. Earth?! Jason had exclaimed, unable to help himself. Whatever for? That was his own business, Castiel had told Jason coolly. Then he had gone on to say that, as the next highest-ranking member of the board, Ignatius would be taking over. Jason's black heart had sunk at that proclamation. He was pretty sure he knew what was going to happen next. The Special Forces that he and Castiel had handpicked and trained would be disbanded, and Jason's own fate would be very much in question. Once everything that he and Castiel had done came out, Jason would probably be tried for war crimes and either receive a lengthy prison term or be put to death, depending on how old-school Biblical Ignatius decided to go. But one thing was for sure: the fun and games would be over.

Well, that was exactly what had happened, except for the fact that Jason had thus far remained unindicted. Deciding that he couldn't afford to take the chance, Jason had paid a call on each and every Angel who would be able to bring his misdeeds to light. Luckily, there hadn't been too many. Castiel and Jason were both suspicious and guarded individuals who didn't share their confidences with others. Of necessity, they'd had to delegate some of the more objectionable tasks. Castiel was the acting God while the Father was away, and Jason was the head of Law Enforcement. It wouldn't do for one of them to get caught red-handed, torturing one of their fellow Angels. So Jason had visited the half-dozen Special Ops squadron leaders and told them that if they knew what was good for them, they would keep their big mouths shut about what they had been ordered to do, and who had ordered them to do it. Four had agreed instantly, but two had not, and those two men were now dead. Jason framed a third man for their murders, and that Angel had been put to death immediately, following a vote by the board. Then Jason had let it be known that if anyone who was left alive suddenly found themselves in a talkative mood, they would suffer the same fate.

Ignatius had left Jason in charge of Law Enforcement, because despite what he thought of the man personally, Ignatius had to admit that Jason did a good job. The crime rate in Heaven was extremely low, and if any Angel showed the poor judgment it would take to commit an offense under Jason's watch, that Angel would receive a punishment that was swift and severe. Ignatius had a bit more compassion than Castiel, but he was still a long-serving Angel, who was not averse to the use of Biblical corrective measures.

So, except for the Special Operations force having been disbanded, things had been running along pretty much as they had before. But Jason was not happy. Believing Jason to be an ally and maybe even a friend, Castiel had finally confessed to the real reason he had been spending so much time on Earth. Castiel had fallen in love, and he was courting a woman. A human woman.

Jason couldn't believe it. A human? Castiel had always been vociferously anti-human. Most of the Upper Echelon were. They were convinced of their superiority over the insects that their Father had created, seemingly for His own amusement. But now Castiel was telling Jason that he had fallen in love with one, and was hoping to marry it soon?

Castiel's lieutenant had shaken his head slowly when his compatriot had told him that. "Did you receive a blow to the head recently?" Jason had asked his Brother sarcastically. "That's the only explanation I can think of for your claiming you want to enter into the sacred covenant of matrimony with...one of those," he added distastefully.

"I know it seems strange, but we have been condemning an entire race of people, sight unseen," Castiel said earnestly. "Gail is sweet, and intelligent, and funny. And her brother and their friends are good men, Jason. I have opened up my heart and my mind, and they have all helped me to do it. I had been prepared to go ahead with our plans to annex Earth, but now, having met those people and others like them, I realize that would be wrong. Earth is their home. We have no right to march in there and take it from them."

"No right?" Jason said, astonished. "Of course we have the right! We're Angels of the Lord!"

"Gail says that just because you CAN do something, that doesn't mean that you SHOULD," Cas stated.

Jason shook his head again. This was unbelievable. "Why are you allowing her to fill up your head with those ridiculous notions?" he asked Castiel. But then, the light dawned. "You want to lay with her, don't you? So you're just saying what she wants to hear, so she'll open her legs to you."

"Don't talk about Gail like that," Castiel had said angrily. "That's not it at all. We are in love."

"Oh, you are, are you?" Jason said, smirking. "Answer me one question, then: if she agrees to marry you, where will the two of you live?"

Castiel was taken aback by the question. Truthfully, he hadn't thought about that. Gail still didn't know he was an Angel, but she was a human woman. They certainly couldn't live in Heaven. "On Earth, I suppose," he said slowly.

"On Earth," Jason said, with an edge to his voice. "Why don't you just get Father to make you a human, then, while you're at it? Get out of my office. You disgust me."

"I am still your superior, even though I do not sit in the High Office anymore," Castiel said quietly. "I suggest you remember that."

Jason let out a breath in frustration. Castiel had lost his mind. He had to be shown the error of his ways. But he was a stubborn man, and Jason knew that there would be nothing he could say or do to deter Castiel from making the biggest mistake of his existence. So he decided then and there to take matters into his own hands. He apologized, and then he asked his Brother some questions about Gail, and about her and Castiel's relationship. Castiel had been only too glad to talk about those things. Jason picked up quite a bit of intel that he could use to his advantage. So, the woman had no idea that Castiel was an Angel, or what sort of a man he actually was? Great. Terrific. Then Castiel had pulled the ring box out of his pocket, and told Jason where he was going to take Gail today. He was going to propose to her just before the sun set. It was going to be so romantic.

Jason had smiled and congratulated his Brother. And once Castiel had left his office, he'd picked up the phone and called Hakeem, Crowley's senior lieutenant.

"How many people are coming to this picnic, anyway?" Gail quipped as Cas laid out all the food he'd brought.

"Just us," Cas replied, removing the cork from the bottle of wine. He had taken her question literally once again. But then he looked up to see her smiling, and he realized she had been joking. "Oh," Cas remarked. "You mean, because there is a lot of food, others would be joining us? That's amusing."

Now it was Gail who was amused. Cas was definitely one of a kind. They had been dating for the better part of a year by now, and wherever they went or whatever they did, Cas always reacted like it was the first time for him. It was adorable.

Cas was staring at her now. His nerves were on edge. How could he ever get up the courage to ask her what he wanted to ask her? She would surely say no. She knew nothing about him. He knew so much about her, but she knew nothing about him.

"I wish I could paint," Cas blurted out. "I would love to paint a portrait of you, just the way you look now. Or, if I could write poetry, I would write you a love sonnet. One per day, just like a calendar. But I could never do you justice."

Gail never knew what to say when Cas got like this. He was unbelievable. She had never met anyone who talked like he did. Who wore his heart on his sleeve like he did. She reached out and touched his face. He was so handsome, and his eyes were so blue. If other people in her life hadn't seen him and talked to him, Gail would swear that he was a figment of her imagination. There was only one problem: she knew nothing about him. Every time she tried to ask him for details about himself and his life, he would change the subject somehow, and then they would usually end up talking about her. She didn't even know how old he was. She had never even been to his place. They had been dating for nearly a year, and she had never even seen where he lived.

He took her hand and kissed it, and then he kissed the inside of her wrist, where the pulse point was. That set her pulse racing, all right. That was another thing they had never done. Except for kissing and hugging and hand-holding, Cas had never been physical with her. He took the word "gentleman" to a whole new level. At first, she'd thought that was very sweet. But now, a year down the road, it was driving her nuts.

"Whenever I feel down, or discouraged about something, I close my eyes and picture your face," Cas told her now. "Whenever I feel as though none of it has any meaning, I come to see you, and my faith is restored."

"Where do you go, when you're not with me?" Gail asked him, for the umpteenth time. "What do you do?" She was trying not to let his beautiful words distract her. This was ridiculous. She knew nothing about him.

"If I could be in two places at once, I'd be with you, always," Cas replied, beautifully but evasively. "Tomorrow, and today. Forever. If the world should end today, I would spend its last hours with you. And then, when the planet was gone, I would bring you to my plane of understanding, and we would fly together, for all of eternity."

"OK, that's it," Gail said angrily, scrambling to her feet. "I'm out of here."

Cas leapt up. "What? Why? What's the matter?"

"You're kidding me with this, right?" she fumed. "Cas, we've been going out for almost a year now, and I don't know anything about you. Nothing. How old are you? Where do you live? What do you do all day? What's your favourite colour, even? Do you have any brothers or sisters? What about your parents?"

As Gail tried to catch her breath after her rant, Cas sighed. She was right, of course. How on earth could he ask her to marry him if she didn't know anything about him? He'd just been afraid that she wouldn't like his answers. "Please, sit back down with me, and I'll tell you everything," he said to her. "Please."

After a moment, Gail sat back down on the blanket and Cas sat close beside her, taking her hand. He breathed deeply. "I'm as old as time itself. I was there at the Beginning of everything. I am God's second child. I dwell in Heaven, but I only live when I'm here with you. What do I do all day? Count the minutes until I'm able to be here with you again. My favourite colour is whatever colour you are wearing at the time. I have billions of Angel Brothers and Sisters, and my parents are Adam and Eve. And the Almighty Father, of course."

Gail regarded him balefully. "Do you think what you're doing now is funny? If I'm going to be your girlfriend, I have the right to know some basic things about you, you know. But you don't have to mock me."

"I'm not," Cas said, distressed. "Everything I just told you is the absolute truth!"

"Did Frank put you up to this?" she persisted. "Or Dean, or Sam?"

"No," Cas said, bewildered. "No one knows about my status. Well, except for Gabriel. He is an Archangel. Technically, he outranks me, but Father assigned him to Earth, and put me in the High Office. But after I met you, I resigned my post there, for a number of reasons. Why don't you have something to eat, or a glass of wine? That's what humans do at picnics, right? Then, we can talk. I'll answer any questions you might have. You were right. You have the right to know about me, especially because I hope that you will be more than my girlfriend, soon. But I'm putting the cart before the horse. Here. Take some wine." He poured a cup and handed it to her.

Gail took it from him and had a gulp or two, simply because she had no idea what to say or do at this moment. Cas was nuts. He was delusional. That had to be it. She'd seen movies and read books about this kind of thing. He'd obviously suffered a break from reality. Maybe something really bad had happened to him, some terrible trauma that he'd needed to repress. So he had created this whole persona and backstory about himself, so he wouldn't have to deal with who he really was. Boy, oh boy. Cas was the one who should be the writer. Gabriel, an Archangel? That was probably the most absurd thing of all.

What was she supposed to do now?

VIGNETTE - BLUE MONDAY

Andy took the bus home from the library and unlocked the door to his apartment. As he always did, he left the door unlocked while he went around and checked all the rooms. If there was somebody there, he had to be able to run back to the front door and pull it open so that he could make his escape. In nearly every horror movie he'd ever seen, and he'd seen a lot, the person coming home always locked the door immediately, and then they always had to fumble with the locks to open it again, when they were running away from the killer. That was just crazy.

But the problem with doing it this way was: how did you know that someone wasn't going to sneak in through the unlocked front door, when you were in the bedroom down the hall, checking the closet? So once he had searched the place, he would have to come back out, and do it all over again. This process could and usually would be repeated, over and over again, until something would happen to snap Andy out of it. Then he would lock the door and make himself something to eat, while going over his notes.

Andy went to the library nearly every day to do research on voodoo and dark magic, and he thought that he was on the verge of figuring out how to take his brother down. In this reality, Andy was a young, vital man, who wasn't crazy. Well, except for a little OCD, maybe. But it made sense for someone in his position to be extremely cautious. If Vincent knew how close Andy was to figuring out the spell, he would go nuts.

There was only one problem: Vincent DID know, and he wasn't going to give his little brother the opportunity to rain on the party. Now that Vincent had the Devil in his camp, there was nothing he couldn't accomplish. But, Andy had to go. Vincent and Lucifer had already visited Vincent's other brother Oliver, and they had annihilated him. Now it was time to do the same with Andy, before his research led to Vincent's demise.

As Andy sat down to look at his notes, Vincent and Lucifer suddenly appeared in front of him. Andy sprung to his feet.

"As it turns out, you were worrying about the front door for nothing," Vincent sneered. "Satan and I don't need doors. We go wherever we want, whenever we want."

"Satan?!" Andy exclaimed, looking open-mouthed at the stranger.

"The one and only," Lucifer replied smugly.

"You're in league with Satan?" Andy asked his brother in astonishment.

"Actually, I look at it more like, he's in league with me," Vincent retorted, and Lucifer's grin faded a bit. They were going to have to have a little chat soon about who was riding on whose coattails, here. Lucifer was a household name, the epitome of Evil. Vincent was a murderous, amoral bastard with the sex drive of a long-term inmate set loose from prison, but it was Lucifer who everyone was afraid of, and rightly so.

"Whatever the case may be," the Devil snapped, "we know you've been doing some research on how to bring our little empire down. But it's you who's going down, right now. And not in the good way." Hey, Lucifer had once been a long-term inmate, himself. Angels were celibate, or at least, they were supposed to be. They had no idea what they were missing. None.

Vincent rushed forward and grabbed his brother by the throat. "Do you have any last words, before I squash you like a bug?" he snarled.

"Yes, I do," Andy said, as bravely as he could considering that his heart was hammering away a mile a minute. "The Angels will bring you both down."

"The Angels?" Lucifer scoffed. "Oh, that's rich. My Brothers and Sisters have their Sainted heads shoved so far up their own asses that their haloes are crooked. They have no idea what's really going on. By the time they get here, they'll find out they're too late. Vincent and I will already be running things. They'll have to bow down to ME, if they want to survive."

"Too bad you won't be here to see it," Vincent said to his younger brother, squeezing his neck tighter. Then, the Voodoo Priest looked at Lucifer. So far, the Devil had been all talk, but no action. "Get your hands dirty," he said tersely.

Lucifer glared at Vincent for a moment. Oh, yes. They would be having that chat about who the Alpha Dog was, and they would be having it soon. But for now, he didn't really mind kicking in for the cause. Especially since all he had to do was snap his fingers and -

SPLAT! Andy exploded, sending blood and brain matter splashing all over his apartment. Vincent was soaked through, but Lucifer had thrown up a shield with his other hand, and he was perfectly pristine. "It looks like YOU'RE the one whose hands are dirty," he said to Vincent, smirking. "Along with every other inch of you. Oh, well, look on the bright side. Your whole family is dead, now. Seems like a bit of an extreme way to avoid family reunions, but, whatever. Run along home, now. Maybe you can get little Blaise to lick some of that blood off of you. She's pretty good. I had her, last week. Hey, don't look at me like that. What else would you expect from the Devil himself? You're just pissed off that I got there first. Well, cheer up. There's lots more deflowering left to be done. In any event, after you get cleaned up, I think we should have a little talk about who's in league with who. I don't see YOUR name in the Bible as the Numero Uno bad guy. See you around, Vincent."

Lucifer snapped his fingers and then he was gone, leaving a gaping Vincent behind, his brother's guts still dripping from his face.


	11. Chapter 6 - Wake-Up Call

Chapter 6 - Wake-Up Call

Back in the present reality, God had summoned Death to him, and the ancient entity wasn't too happy about it. God had changed the entire status quo. He had yanked the Book of Life out of its rightful owner's hands, and promptly flipped the script.

"We had a deal," Death fumed. People were under the impression that he felt no emotions, but that perception was simply not true. Death was capable of a myriad of emotions; he just didn't go around expressing them all the time. He was a firm believer in self-control. But he was feeling anger now.

God raised an eyebrow. "Why are you so upset? Order has been restored. You received your souls from the Holocaust after Castiel corrected his error, and now, you are receiving extra souls, to replace the ones I've brought back."

"But they are the wrong ones!" Death exclaimed.

"What do you care? I thought it was merely a numbers game to you. So, you receive a Becky, instead of a Jody. An Andy, instead of a John. What's it to you?" God retorted.

Death looked at him incredulously. "You're upsetting the natural order of things! That was what this whole exercise was supposed to have been about, in the first place! You were supposed to be punishing Castiel for defying you. His family were to be systematically eliminated, one by one, in order to give him the incentive to do what had to be done."

"And that is exactly what happened," God said calmly.

Who was He trying to fool? "No. No," Death insisted stubbornly. "The final death never occurred. You changed the events. Castiel has learned nothing from the experience, because you pulled back. You didn't follow through."

"How I discipline my Son is my business," God said coolly.

"That may be, but I am still owed. More than a few souls, by my count. I will have them, one way or the other. I will wait for your Word."

Suddenly, Death vanished. God frowned. Death had made Him angry, but the ancient entity was also right. God had pulled His punch there, at the end of the cycle. Why? Was it because they had all suffered enough, by that point? Or had God just gone soft? There was a fine line between Free Will, and just doing whatever the hell it was that you wanted. Yes, God had abdicated the Office, but he was still God. The Original G-O-D, as the kids might say, and when He spoke, He expected to be obeyed. And just when had His children become so disrespectful, anyway?

He needed perspective. It was time to look in on the one person who might have an inkling of what God was wrestling with.

"Bobby Singer! How the hell are you? Come on in!" Dean said delightedly. He shook the hand of the man who had been one of their father's best friends while they were growing up. Now his and Sam's parents were dead, but even before that, they had lost track of Bobby. "How did you know where I lived?" Dean asked the man now, ushering him into the kitchen.

The truth was that Bobby hadn't known where Dean lived. He had just been driving around in the neighbourhood, and the strongest urge he had ever felt in his life had come over him to drive down this street. Then, an even stronger urge had made Bobby knock on this door. And the only reason Dean had been home was that Nicole had had a doctor's appointment this afternoon, and she hadn't wanted to bring little Elizabeth with her. There was a pretty strong strain of the flu going around, and the new mother hadn't wanted to take any chances.

"Can I get you a beer, Bobby?" Dean asked him. "It's five o'clock, somewhere."

"If you'll have one with me," Bobby said affably. "How's Sam? Is he doing okay?"

"We're great, Bobby. God, it's good to see you," Dean said, opening the fridge. "How long's it been?"

"Don't answer that question if you don't want me to kick your ass," Bobby growled. "The last thing I need is a reminder of how old and decrepit I am."

Dean laughed, handing Bobby a beer. "Yeah, I know what you mean. The other day, I found a grey hair."

"Ahhh, so what? One or two grey hairs on your head is nothing to get bent out of shape about," Bobby remarked.

"Who said they were on my head?" Dean said, smirking.

Bobby fixed him with a baleful look. "Despite that mental image, it's good to see you, Boy." He lifted his beer bottle. "Here's to renewing old acquaintances."

They clinked bottles and drank. Then they sat down at the kitchen table and talked, and then they talked some more. Dean called Sam at the University, and Sam said that he would come over right away. While they were waiting for him to arrive, the baby cried. So Dean brought Elizabeth downstairs, so her Uncle Bobby could see her. Then Dean fed her and deftly changed his daughter's diaper, while Bobby tickled her stomach. Then, by the time Elizabeth was down again, Bobby realized why he'd been sent here.

Sam arrived, and once more hugs and pleasantries had been exchanged, Bobby let out a breath. "Boys, I need your help. Do you believe in witches?"

"I know that you think I'm insane, but I assure you, I'm not," Cas said earnestly. "I'll prove it to you. Ask me anything about history. Anything. I can tell you which parts of the Bible are true, and which aren't. You would be surprised how much of it is artistic license."

Gail let out a breath. "None of that would prove anything, Cas. I'm really good at Entertainment and Literature, in Trivial Pursuit. Just because you know a lot about a subject doesn't mean you were there for it."

Cas snapped his fingers. Why hadn't he thought of it before? "I'll take you somewhere. Paris? London? Mars?"

"Sure, Cas," Gail said, bemused. "Let's go to Mars. Maybe I can get Captain Kirk's autograph."

"I don't know who that is," Cas remarked. "Give me your hand."

"Cas..."

"Give me your hand," he insisted. "Please."

"It's funny you should ask about witches," Sam said, grinning. He told Bobby about the night class he'd taught.

But Bobby wasn't smiling. "It's all true," he told the brothers. "All of it. Vampires, ghouls, werewolves...all of it. Now I know why I was led to this house."

"What are you talking about, Bobby?" Dean asked.

"I've got terminal cancer, boys," the older man said bluntly. "I'm probably not gonna last till Christmas. I think God led me here to this house so I could ask you to take over for me. I've been seeing this woman, Abigail. Things were going along pretty great until I found out that she's a witch, who belongs to a coven. They hex people to make money, and when somebody doesn't toe the line the way they want, they kill them. I've got experience with these kinds of things, but I'm too old and too tired to take down a whole coven all by myself. That's where you two come in."

"Are you nuts?!" Dean exclaimed. "We don't know the first thing about how to deal with witches."

"Sure ya do," Bobby assured him. "Sam taught a class on that stuff, and you took it!"

"Yeah, but that was just an academic pursuit," Sam argued.

Bobby sighed. "Look, I know it's a lot to ask. But there are innocent people being killed, you guys. I need your help. Whaddaya say?"

Dean and Sam exchanged glances. "I say I have a couple of phone calls to make," Dean told him.

Bobby's beard twitched. "If one of those calls is to the looney bin, do me a favour and let me know. Then I can pack my best underwear, in case they give me one of those things that opens in the back."

But Dean didn't call the authorities, because he believed what Bobby had been telling them. God help him. Instead, he called Kevin, asking him if he could take Elizabeth to their house for a bit. Then, he made his other call.

About twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door. "You wanted to see us about something?" Frank asked his friend. Jody followed her boyfriend into the house.

Every word of it was true. Gail couldn't believe it. Cas had been telling her the truth!

He'd winked her to Europe, then to Australia. Then he'd called Gabriel on Angel Radio and the Archangel had showed up in Antarctica, where they'd gone to next, putting a coat around Gail's shoulders. Then, for good measure, Gabe had winked them all to the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Then the Angels had brought Gail back to the park, and Gabe had snapped the coat away as she sank down onto the blanket, stunned by what had just transpired.

Gabriel smiled at his Brother. He was thrilled to see this side of Castiel, and he'd been even more thrilled when Cas told him over their frequency that he was planning to propose to Gail, once her equilibrium returned.

"I'll just leave you two kids alone, then," Gabe had said, smiling at the couple. The look of utter amazement on Gail's face was so cute. He would have to come up with some sort of a nickname for her. They had just been in the Antarctic, watching some penguins. They were little and cute, just like she was. Maybe he would call her "Penguin", then.

Gabriel winked himself away, and Castiel sat beside Gail on the blanket again. "Are you all right?" he asked her softly. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you, merely to convince you."

"Oh, I'm convinced, all right," she said in a shaky voice. She still felt a little dizzy, but she put her hand on Cas's arm now. "You've seen it all," Gail remarked. "All of history. Everything. You can go anywhere you want, do anything you want, but you're here with me?"

"I told you, there's no place I would rather be, and no one I'd rather be with," Cas assured her. "I love you. I want to be with you every moment of every day, from this moment on." He reached into his pocket, opening the ring box. "Will you do me the supreme honour of becoming my wife?"

"Well, isn't this touching," Hakeem said, stepping out from the forest.

Cas sprang to his feet. "What are you doing here?" he asked the Demon angrily.

"Doesn't this human have the right to know what you're REALLY asking her?" Hakeem said, smirking. He moved forward slowly. "You're really asking her if she wants to be a target for your many enemies. The instant you fell in love with the poor, unfortunate thing, you hung an 'Open Season' sign around her neck. There's a long line of us who would love to get to you by taking our blades to her, and they're not all from my domain, either."

Castiel opened his mouth to ask the question, and then he realized he already knew the answer: it was Jason. Jason was the only one he had told where he and Gail were going to be, and what he had intended to do here today. Gabriel had been right: Jason was not Castiel's friend. He had sent Hakeem here to do his dirty work. Castiel got his blade out of his pocket. "Run," he said to Gail. "Leave. Now."

"Oh, I think not. That would spoil all the fun," Hakeem said. Two other Demons suddenly appeared, pulling Gail to her feet and holding her by the arms. She struggled, but to no avail.

"Fine," Castiel said, and the tone of his voice was strange. It was almost too calm. He stabbed one Demon with his blade and pulled him off of Gail, then put his hand on the other's head, burning the eyes out of his skull. Then he grabbed the head of the Demon he'd stabbed with both hands and twisted viciously, snapping Its vessel's neck.

"Come on, then," Castiel said, gesturing to Hakeem. "What are you waiting for?"

"Me," Crowley said, appearing suddenly. He looked at Hakeem. "You lot have a real problem following the chain of command," he said to his lieutenant. "A good rule of thumb to remember? The King sees all, and he knows all. I didn't sign off on this little venture; therefore, I'm sending you on a Time Out. We have a new Torture Master. His name is Raguel, and he learned his techniques from the best. Didn't he, Castiel? I'll see you in a week or so, Hakeem. Let's see if you remember the chain of command when your brains are leaking out of your ears."

The King of Hell snapped his fingers, and Hakeem disappeared. Then Crowley walked over to where Gail was standing, giving Castiel a wide berth. He wasn't too worried about the Angel blade his brother still held in his hand. They both knew it couldn't harm him.

Crowley snapped the corpses of the Demons away, and then he made a small bow to Gail. "So, you're the young lady we've all heard so much about. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I apologize for the actions of my subjects. Not all of us are such ill-mannered brutes, although I have to confess, many Demons are."

"Demons?" Gail echoed. She felt like she was losing her mind. Any minute now, somebody from one of those prank shows was going to come out of the woods with a camera crew.

"Oh. I suppose you hadn't gotten that far in your tutorial, yet," Crowley said, nodding. "Allow me to explain, then. Demons are - "

"I know what they are," Gail said, not realizing that she had just interrupted the King of Demons. "I took a night class."

"You took a night class," Crowley repeated. He looked at Castiel, whose entire body was one big tense muscle now. What was Crowley's intent? "She took a night class," the King said to the Angel. Then he did something that Castiel had never seen before. Crowley threw his head back and laughed.

"Finally!" the King exclaimed, wiping the tears of mirth from his eyes. "Finally, someone who knows exactly what our empty, meaningless existences have been lacking!" He looked at Castiel, whose mouth was still open in astonishment. "I take back most of the terrible things I've said about you, over the centuries. Not all of them, but most of them. This is what we've all been waiting for. This is going to be so much fun." He snapped his fingers, and Jason suddenly appeared, bound from head to foot. Then, Crowley snapped his fingers again, and an Angel blade appeared in his hand.

"I'll see you soon, sweetheart," Crowley said to Gail. He plunged the knife into her heart, twice in quick succession. "You'll thank me later," he told her, disappearing as Castiel ran forward, bellowing in anger and terror.

Seconds later, Gail died in Cas's arms. He wept over her body, and then he lowered her slowly to the blanket that would be her shroud. But first, he had business to attend to.

Castiel drew his blade, looking at Jason, whose eyes were wide with fear. "Let's see: where shall we begin?" Castiel said, looking calmly at his former friend.

VIGNETTE - TIME AFTER TIME

Castiel had intended to torture Jason slowly and painfully, wringing every last scream of agony out of him before he finally dispatched him to Hell. And that was where Jason would be going, of course. After everything he had done, Castiel was sure that Jason would be Crowley's right-hand man in a very short period of time. The only question that remained was whether Castiel himself would be on Crowley's left, should any of his many enemies finally catch up with him. The fact that Cas had been seeking redemption here on Earth with Gail may not count for anything at all when it came time for his Final Judgement.

But Castiel's heart was too heavy now to prolong Jason's death, so he merely stabbed Jason with his Angel blade, releasing his former compatriot's essence. Once it had dissipated, Castiel quartered Jason's vessel and winked the pieces away.

Then he turned to the heartbreaking task at hand. He removed the food and wine from the blanket, set the picnic basket aside, and wrapped Gail's body in the blanket, as if he were swaddling her. Her eyes were still open. Crowley's act had been sudden and shocking. Cas got down on the ground and cuddled Gail's blanket-wrapped body to him. He didn't close her eyes. That way, he could pretend as if she was listening.

He cleared his throat, blinking back the tears until he felt like he could begin: "You belong with me, and I belong to you. Our love is eternal. You are the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes upon." Cas cleared his throat again. It was beginning to close up. But he meant to tell her everything he needed to say. "When I look at you, I see the sunrise. Everything lovely and good that our Father ever created is in your eyes." A tear slid down his cheek. "When you smile at me or take my hand, I know why I exist. I wandered around all those years, searching for you. And every time God let me find you, only to lose you so cruelly, I would lift my head up, and I would ask him why. Why? I never received an answer. Not once. But now, I know why: Because I had to earn my happiness. I had to earn your love. Whatever made me think I was entitled to receive such a perfect gift? Simply because I existed? The Bible claims that Father said to Job: 'Where were you, when I made the world?' I don't know if that's true, because I wasn't there. But it sounds like Him, all right. And, do you know what, my darling? Where WAS I, when He made the world? What made me think that I had the right to anything; anything at all? Much less anything as perfect as your love?"

Cas kissed Gail on the forehead, and he laid her gently down on the ground. Then he did close her eyes. He stood to his full height, holding his arms out in supplication. "Thy Will be done. Do with me what You will."

A moment later, both Castiel and Gail disappeared.

The first test had been passed. Castiel had now demonstrated the first Virtue: Humility. Actually, God thought with some humour, his Son had technically demonstrated a second Virtue, as well: Chastity. He had been a perfect gentleman while courting Gail. So, the Father was willing to throw that one in as a bonus.

The more God had thought about it, the more He had become convinced that Death had had a point: Castiel had gotten off a little too lightly in this New World Order. He'd been the top dog in Heaven, to use the vernacular, but somehow, he and Gail had found a way to reconnect with each other, and with many of the others, even though they were never meant to. So, God made a deal with Himself: Castiel had to show to his Father's satisfaction that he could demonstrate the Seven Holy Virtues. If Castiel could do that, the Father would bring the four of them back to that mountain, to resume the current timeline. Then, if Castiel fell into line and made the sacrifice that had been intended to be made, God would relent, and allow them all to carry on.

But for now, there were some more tests in store. God was curious about something: was His Son Lucifer inherently evil, or had circumstances made him that way? Lucifer had fallen in with Vincent now, but there was trouble in Paradise. Which of them would blink first?

VIGNETTE - WHEN DOVES CRY

Lucifer and Placida were engaged in a sweaty and particularly acrobatic encounter when Vincent strode through the door of the beachfront cottage.

"Hey!" Lucifer exclaimed. "What gives?"

Vincent lifted an eyebrow. "Why the sudden objection? There was a time, not too long ago, when you would have been calling for me to join in." He smirked, seating himself in the bamboo chair beside the patio doors. "Both of you." He glanced out the large picture window. At least the two of them hadn't bothered to draw the drapes. For a moment there, Vincent had been wondering if they'd been going prudish on him. No, that wasn't true. The truth was that Vincent was beginning to wonder if these two were conspiring against him.

Still, he waved his hand. "Go ahead and finish. I don't mind," Vincent said casually.

Lucifer thought about doing just that for a moment, but it was no use. His mojo was gone. So to speak.

"I'll talk to Lucifer alone," Vincent told Placida. She climbed off the bed, gathered her clothes from the floor and left, without a word to either man.

Lucifer lay back in the bed, his head propped up against the pillows. He didn't bother to cover himself. Even though the heat from the encounter had dissipated, his vessel still felt warm. Besides, he had nothing that Vincent hadn't seen before, up close and personal.

The two of them eyed each other for a minute, and then Vincent said, "Are you conspiring against me?"

"What? No!" Lucifer exclaimed. "Why on earth would you think that? Because Placida and I had a little one-on-one? So what? Isn't that what hedonism is all about? Take it where you can get it?"

Vincent continued to look at him. "Are you aware that Blaise calls you Father, now?" he said in an icy tone.

"You must have misheard that," the Devil retorted. "What she actually calls me is 'Daddy', and it's sexy as hell. I'm encouraging all the young ones to do that, now."

"What exactly do you think we're trying to accomplish, here?" Vincent asked him, tight-lipped.

"Accomplish?" Lucifer scoffed. "I'm not trying to 'accomplish' anything." He got off the bed and started to dance in place. "Unless it's to have a good time. You know what they say: 'Do a little dance, make a little love, and' - "

"That's enough," Vincent snapped. "I recruited you because of your reputation. Of course I knew who you were, 'Bill'. But so far, you haven't done a single thing."

"What do you want me to do?" Satan said, throwing his hands up in frustration. "How about if I go back up to Heaven, then? Dad's not there. He's never there, any more. Maybe I'll fry Ignatius's brains right out of his skull, and then take over the Office. Be in charge of a bunch of sexless, lily-white Angels. How would that be?"

"Well, at least you'd be taking care of business, then, instead of laying around all the time, doing nothing," Vincent said tartly. "If you like taking virgins so much, why don't you go soil some Angels?"

"So, THAT'S it. You're just jealous that I'm getting in there first, most of the time. Well, so to speak," Lucifer smirked. "Here's an idea, then: how about if I kill you, and then you can try to wrest the scepter out of Crowley's hands, if you want to rule something so badly. Maybe the two of us can hop into bed together, both figuratively, and literally. That's if he doesn't mind my sloppy seconds, of course."

"Maybe I should just kill you," Vincent seethed. "Then, I wouldn't have to listen to your endless, empty bragging about how fearsome you are!"

"Empty?! Let me tell you something." Lucifer rushed over to the patio doors and flung them open, stepping outside. "I could fling my arms out right now and every bird, animal and fish within a one-thousand-mile radius would drop dead. Not to mention the people. But I choose not to, because I don't care. Unlike you, I don't have this compelling need to prove that mine is longer than anyone else's. I guess your parents didn't hug you enough, growing up. Did Mommy not want to breast-feed you, cause it creeped her out too much?"

"You're a fine one to talk about parents," Vincent retorted. "You're so hated, so vilified by your entire family that they made your name synonymous with being an outcast."

"So what? Who needs them, anyway?" Lucifer blustered. "I prefer it here. Booze, broads, and tropical weather. What's not to like?"

"If you stay, it's because I allow it," Vincent said in a clipped tone. "I am the head of this family, not you."

"Wow. Get that stick out of your butt. You sound like my Brother; the one who was supposed to have been your son-in-law, in a different reality. Boy, you dodged a bullet, there. Or maybe HE did," Lucifer said. He had come back into the room now and was standing toe-to-toe with Vincent, eyeing him contemptuously. "I go where I want to go, and I do what I want to do, Vince. Remember that."

Vincent nodded, as if receiving the answer to a question. But he hadn't had to ask the question, because he'd already known the answer. "OK, off you go, then. It's been real," he said sarcastically. Then he took the vial of Angel blood out of one of his pockets and the gris-gris bag out of the other. He splashed the blood in Lucifer's face and broke the bag, shouting the incantation for the banishment spell. For all his posturing, Vincent knew he didn't have the power required to kill an ancient being like Lucifer. Not yet, at any rate.

After the black smoke cleared, Lucifer was gone. The properties of the spell were such that the Devil would be unable to gain access to the island on which Vincent and his voodoo family called home, not without some kind of overriding spell. And who needed him, anyway? Vincent was plenty evil enough for the both of them.

Papa walked out to the beach to give his followers the good news.

VIGNETTE - LIKE A VIRGIN

Dean was standing in the shower, trying to wash all the blood off of himself. Yuk. How did men like Bobby DO that, day after day?

At first, the whole thing had seemed like a really fun adventure. Now that Dean was the manager of a few car repair shops, he was more on the administration and marketing side of things, which meant that he was more of a businessman than a hands-on kind of guy. He'd joked to Nicole that he would have to set up a gym in the basement so he wouldn't get too out of shape. Maybe the two of them could work out together. Nicole had laughed, saying maybe, but seeing her husband flex his muscles was what had gotten her pregnant with Elizabeth in the first place.

Dean's wife was at Quinn and Sam's house now. The sisters-in-law were pretty close, which was convenient for the Winchester brothers, since they too were very close. But how in the hell was Dean supposed to explain to Nicole what he and Sammy and their friends had just done?

It had seemed like such a lark, at first. Their old friend Bobby had shown up unexpectedly at Dean's door, and they'd had a bittersweet reunion. Sam had come over, and the men had had a couple of beers and reminisced. But then came the sad news that Bobby had terminal, inoperable cancer, and he had a favour to ask. Incredibly, he had wanted the brothers to go with him to the location where a coven of witches was to meet, and kill them all.

Dean and Sam had exchanged astonished glances, but then both of them had realized that they weren't as surprised as they probably should have been. Sam had taught a class on supernatural beings, and Dean had attended every one, and had actually paid attention, for a change.

"How many?" Dean had asked Bobby matter-of-factly, as if he'd been preparing his whole life for the question.

"I'm not sure. Could be a dozen, or more," Bobby had replied.

"We'd better get some reinforcements, then," Dean had said, and then he had put in the call to Frank. Jody had been there with her boyfriend, so Dean had invited the Sheriff to come, too.

The main core of Hunters was back together now, and they had gone into that record company building and kicked some witch ass. Abigail and Barnabas were both dead, along with a dozen or so others. The diminutive redhead who was the head of the coven had gotten away, but Bobby had declared it a good days' work, regardless. He'd thanked the four of them and then they'd all gone their separate ways to get cleaned up.

Dean's dilemma was twofold as he toweled himself off. How the hell was he supposed to tell Nicole what they had just done? And, the bigger question was: how was he supposed to tell her that he wanted to do it again?

VIGNETTE - WHAT'S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT?

Gabriel felt like a real cad. After all this time, it had finally happened. After dating dozens of women on Earth, he'd finally met one who had fallen head over heels in love with him. There was just one problem: he didn't feel the same way.

Felicia was cute, sweet, blonde and curvy. She had all the attributes that Gabe liked in a woman. Well, except for one. She was TOO sweet. Too understanding. A couple of times, Gabriel had stood her up when they'd had a prearranged date, and he hadn't always had a good explanation. Part of it was because he couldn't divulge what he really was, of course, or the fact that he was only assigned to Earth, and not a resident. Sometimes, Gabriel was off the grid. At least, those were the excuses he used to himself. But eventually, he had to admit that, although a certain part of his anatomy was still very much in the relationship, his heart was not.

The trouble was, Felicia was way too forgiving. If she'd only torn a strip off him for standing her up and asserted herself, Gabriel would actually like her a lot better. Somewhat perversely, if she would only tell him off, even just once, Gabe might be inclined to stay in the relationship.

But she wouldn't, and she didn't. Felicia made excuses for him, instead. They'd arranged to meet at the Rogue Angel for a drink, and Gabriel stammered out that he liked her, he really, really did. But he had to go out of town on business, and he had no idea when he might be back.

Felicia had been full of questions. Where was he going? Maybe they could Skype, or could she come and visit him there? Did he get any time off? Maybe he could come back on weekends, or holidays?

Finally, Gabe had had to give her the old "it's not you, it's me" speech. She had looked at him with the hurt evident on her face, and he had braced himself. Now, she was going to make a scene. Curse him out. Maybe throw her drink in his face. Something.

Felicia cleared her throat. "Can I buy you a farewell drink?"

VIGNETTE - WAIT FOR ME

Sam Winchester also had a problem, and his was a lot more serious.

Dean had called his brother at home a few hours after they'd gotten back from taking care of the witches, and his brother had been all hopped up on the adrenaline of the experience. Plus, Dean had talked to Nicole as soon as she'd gotten home and put Elizabeth down, and somehow, Dean had convinced his wife to give him her endorsement to go Hunting, at least part-time.

Now, Dean wanted Sam to do the same, and that was the source of Sam's problem. Quinn wasn't going to be nearly as understanding as Nicole seemed to be. Sam hadn't even intended to tell his own wife what they had done, reasoning that it had been a one-off thing, to help an old family friend.

Sam wasn't a naturally deceptive man, but there was a reason for his reticence. Quinn's father was in the local penitentiary, awaiting a death sentence for murder. At his trial, he had testified that the victim had been attacked by some sort of a monster, and he had actually been trying to revive the woman. That was why he'd had her blood all over him. Sure, she'd been attacked by a monster, the DA had said sarcastically. He was sitting in the defendant's chair. They'd done a cursory psych evaluation on Quinn's dad, and found him to be sane. Of course he was. He'd been telling the absolute truth.

That was one of the things that had sparked Sam's interest in supernatural creatures. Which was all very well and good, when it was only an intellectual pursuit. But Sam knew that there was no way that Quinn would be OK with him going out there, actively hunting and killing monsters. No way.

VIGNETTE - EVERY MOVE YOU MAKE

God was watching Castiel avidly to see what he would do, now that the love of his life had been taken from him, yet again. Would he head straight for the crossroads with his blade? Exhort Ignatius to lead a raid into Hell? Rant and rail at his Father?

No, no, and no. Astonishingly, Cas began to travel throughout each country and each city and town, performing healings and charitable acts.

Death visited God again. "What would you have me do with her?" he asked the Almighty Father.

God pursed His lips. Now, Castiel was exhibiting Kindness and Charity, two more of the Virtues. His Father was surprised, and more than a little impressed. But there were three more Virtues to go.

"Keep Gail in Limbo for now," He instructed Death. The ancient entity gave Him a curt nod, and then he disappeared. He really didn't care about the disposition of Gail's soul. She had been a mere human this time, with no standing, or significance. God had a bee in His bonnet about testing Castiel for the Virtues, and there was nothing that Death could do about it but hope that Castiel would fail the test.

VIGNETTE - NEUROTICA

Lucifer continued to wander aimlessly around the United States, looking for something to do. He began to people-watch, marveling at how humans got through life. They were like little ants, hustling and bustling around. No wonder he and his brethren had always thought of God's creations as insects. It was because they were.

Yet they persevered, against all odds, with vessels that had a short shelf life, unaware that there were all manner of otherworldly beings walking amongst them, most of who had no more regard for them than they would for the barnacles that had attached themselves to the underside of a boat. Satan was unsure if he hated them, or felt pity for them.

He happened across the Rogue Angel one night, and like the others of his kind who had gone in there, he was amused by the name. So he went in, of course, missing Gabriel by mere minutes. The only other one who would have recognized him would have been Castiel, but God's most miserable Son was still performing good deeds around the globe, hoping that if he did enough of them, the Father would see fit to ascend Gail.

Lucifer sat down at the bar next to an attractive, blonde-haired woman, who looked as though she had been crying. He ignored her, signaling to the bartender to bring him a drink. Whenever the Devil beckoned, humans obeyed him instantly, if they were less than stellar people. This was just one of the many qualities that he brought to the table. But Vincent hadn't taken the time or trouble to find that out, had he? The Voodoo Priest had been more concerned with his own ego than what would have been good for the team. Well, good riddance. Who needed him, anyway? Lucifer was Satan; the Devil, himself. He was who the bad ones prayed to, and the righteous ones shook rosary beads and other useless trinkets at in an attempt to ward off. But he could go anywhere he wanted; do anything he wanted.

"Hi, honey," he said to Felicia. "Can Daddy buy you a drink?"

VIGNETTE - INTO THE GROOVE

"Oww! Hold on, Winchester! We're stuck! You have to move to your right," Frank said irritably.

Dean shifted the desk, but he moved it in the opposite direction of where Frank had said that he wanted him to go. "Uhhhh, that would be your other right, Einstein," Frank said dryly.

"You can't talk to me like that. I'm your boss," Dean said.

"Not here, you're not," Frank pointed out. "You said we'd be equal partners."

"Hey, if all you're aspiring to be is an equal to my brother, you're not aiming high enough," Sam quipped, entering the front door of the duplex. He shook his head at the sight of the men. They had been trying to maneuver a heavy oak desk up a narrow flight of stairs, and they'd gotten stuck, about halfway up. "If Archimedes could see you now," Sam remarked. Predictably enough, Dean frowned. "Who's that?" he said, wiping sweat from his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "Some Professor guy at the University?"

Sam shook his head again, smirking. His brother was a lot of great things, but a Rhodes scholar was not one of them. "Here, let me help you with that," he offered. "I need to talk to you guys, and I'd like to do it today."

He suggested a way for the men to shift the desk so that it wouldn't get stuck on the landing, and once Frank and Dean had the piece of furniture moved into the small office they were going to use for their Investigations business, Dean reached into the portable fridge he'd made sure to install first thing, and pulled out three bottles of beer. "We have to christen the place," he said by way of explanation.

"Fine, but if you want me to smash my bottle on the desk, you're gonna have to clean up the mess, afterwards," Frank wisecracked.

"Has anybody heard from Gail, or from Cas?" Sam asked Frank.

Gail's brother frowned. "No. Our mom's really upset. When Jody and I went over there, she told Jody she wanted her to track them down. But Jody told her things don't work like that. Gail and Cas are both adults. If they left town together, there's nothing the cops can do about it. I mean, they're not Bonnie and Clyde, or anything. Gail's a grown woman. An inconsiderate one, but still..."

"Do you know for a fact that she and Cas left town together?" Sam persisted.

"No, and that's one reason we're opening up this company," Dean told his brother. "We're gonna find out for sure. And there are a lot of other people out there who are missing family members too, cases the cops can't or won't touch. And if it just so happens that some of those people were abducted by monsters..."

Sam nodded. So, there it was. He'd figured as much. He took a deep breath. "I want in," he told the men.

"You do?" Dean said, surprised. "I thought you said Quinn was gonna have a cow if you came into the monster-hunting business with us."

"This is a private detective agency, isn't it?" Sam said innocently. "That's what I told her it was, anyway. I told her I wanted to go into business with my brother, and my best friend. I told her we were going to try to find Gail, and make sure she's all right. I know she's a grown woman, but I just think it's odd that nobody's heard from her."

"I kind of did too, but I'm on the fence," Frank remarked. "Our parents have always treated her like she's a little kid. Especially my mother. She probably just snapped. I mean, she and Cas have dated for a year, and she was still living at home. They probably just went somewhere so they could have sex."

"You realize you're talking about your little sister, right?" Dean said, smirking.

Frank answered his friend's smirk with one of his own. "Yeah, I know. Gross. But I still think I'm right."

Sam was sitting back in his chair now, and he was frowning. "Listen, I hate to be 'that guy', but did you ever wonder if..." He trailed off.

"What?" Dean asked. "If what?"

"If Cas did something to her," Sam said hesitantly. "I mean, how much do we know about that guy? Nothing. Does anybody even know his last name?"

Frank paused. "Yeah, of course I thought about that, Sam. But I just can't picture it. If you could have seen his puppy dog eyes, whenever he looked at her...no. He couldn't have. No way. The guy had it, bad."

"Just like you have, for Jody," Dean teased him.

Frank grinned. "Yeah," he said again. "You've got me, there. As soon as I track down my sister and kick her in the ass, don't be surprised if you guys get an invitation in the mail to a very special ceremony."

"Are they opening up a new Dunkin' Donuts in the neighbourhood? Awesome," Dean wisecracked.

"I'll do the joking around here, Winchester," Frank said. He looked at Sam. "Welcome aboard, other Winchester. Now, let's get started."


	12. Chapter 7 - Addicted To Love

Chapter 7 - Addicted To Love

Jody was sitting at her desk in the back of the station house, doodling on a scratch pad. She'd originally intended to sit down and brainstorm ideas to help Frank find Gail, but she'd found out to her chagrin that she didn't have any. He and Dean and Sam had done everything they could, on their end. Jody had finally given in and sent a picture of Gail to some of her law enforcement contacts, and Dean had asked Linda to come over and draw Cas, as Frank and the Winchesters described him. Frank thought about that, while they were doing it. His parents had a bunch of pictures of Gail, and so did some of their other friends. But nobody had any pictures of Castiel, even though he had attended a number of functions with Gail. They had pictures of everybody who had been at Nicole and Dean's epic Christmas party, even guys who didn't work at the body shops any more, but: no Cas. Now Frank was starting to wonder if Cas might have something to hide.

They were doing everything they could, so Jody had started to doodle her name with Frank's, like some kind of a lame-ass schoolgirl, and then she started to draw ideas for designs for their wedding invitations. Frank was a pretty direct kind of guy; that was one of the many reasons Jody had fallen so hard for him. Her boyfriend had already told her that he intended to propose, as soon as Gail was found, safe and sound. Jody was excited about the prospect.

She was in the midst of trying to decide how to word the invitation when Riley came into her office. He tapped at the open door, and Jody smirked. If her door was open, what was the point of tapping on it? But she shifted another piece of paper on top of the one she'd been doodling on, anyway. Riley was more respectful than some of the guys, but that would be all she needed.

"There's somebody here I think you'd be interested in talking to," the young officer told Jody.

She got up from her chair and followed him out to the squad room, without asking any questions. Jody knew that Riley wouldn't have asked her to see whoever it was if it was regarding a trivial matter.

A middle-aged black man sat in the chair beside Riley's desk. He was scruffy-looking and his clothes were threadbare. But he sat up straight, his hands on his knees, and he looked Jody directly in the eye as Riley introduced her.

Jody extended her hand for a shake, but the man merely looked at it, and then he looked at her face again. She sighed.

"Raphael here told me something very interesting," Riley said. He took a seat at his desk as Jody pulled a chair from beside one of the other desks and sat down next to the stranger.

"Oh? And what's that?" Jody asked.

Raphael pointed to the sketch that Linda had done of Castiel, which was sitting on the surface of Riley's desk. "That is Castiel," he said in a deep voice. "He is a murderer, and he must be brought to justice."

God was watching with much interest now. He had been greatly amused when Ignatius had sent Raphael down to Earth. They had been having a very heated discussion in the boardroom, a while back. As an Archangel, and an especially arrogant one at that, Raphael had been an extremely vocal proponent of annexing Earth. He'd had those who were on his side of the debate, but Ignatius, Gabriel and others had either been against the notion, or had abstained from the vote. Castiel had been conspicuously absent, as had Jason. Ignatius was aware that Castiel was on the Earth, but he didn't pass that information along to any of the men. Castiel had his share of enemies, and Ignatius didn't want to see any more bloodshed between Angel Brothers. As for Jason, he had simply disappeared, and since Ignatius occupied the High Office by default at the moment, he did not have The Eye.

The reason that Ignatius knew where Castiel was, and what his Brother had been doing, was because Castiel would pop over for visits to Ignatius's suite from time to time to talk, and have a game of chess. He would tell Heaven's erstwhile leader about the humans, on those visits. How flawed and fragile, yet how brave and loving many of them were. They were not insects at all, but flesh and blood people, with hopes and dreams and emotions. The Father had definitely made them in His own image. If the Angels were to annex Earth and make the humans their slaves, or eradicate them altogether, they would be metaphorically slapping God the Father in the face.

Ignatius had raised an eyebrow to Castiel when his Brother had said those things to him, and Cas had smiled thinly.

"I know," he'd said, inclining his head in acknowledgement of Ignatius's reaction to what he was saying. "I used to be adamant that humans were inferior to us, and that we should annex the Earth for our own purposes. But I was wrong, and I had to be corrected. That was why Father punished me." He had gotten a far-off look in his eyes when he'd said that, and Ignatius wondered what God had done to Castiel to so radically change his outlook. But Castiel did not care to share his heartbreak with any of his colleagues. That was his personal business.

Eventually, both Castiel and Gabriel had persuaded Ignatius to come around to their point of view. Still, the erstwhile head of the board held a vote, allowing every Upper Echelon Angel to weigh in. When the motion to annex was defeated, Raphael had been outraged, promising they would all regret it. But because it was Ignatius who held the gavel, he had sent the Archangel down to Earth to live among the humans as a punishment for uttering threats, after siphoning out half of his Grace. So at the moment, Raphael only had the powers of an ordinary Angel, and Ignatius had warned him sternly not to raise a hand against any human. He was merely to live among them, and learn the lessons of humility, and compassion.

Well, it seemed as though the lesson hadn't exactly taken, God thought now, as He watched Raphael speaking to Jody and Riley.

"Where did you see him?" Jody asked Raphael sharply. "Was this woman with him?" She showed the Angel one of the photos of Gail from the file on Riley's desk.

"I saw him in the park, by Lake Nealy," Raphael replied.

"Lake Nealy?" Jody echoed, startled. "That's here, in town! When did you see him there?"

Raphael glared at her for a moment. He was given to understand that this human was an authority figure here, but he wasn't used to being spoken to with such disrespect, and especially not by a woman. But then again, on the other hand, he wanted Castiel to be captured by his precious humans. See how long it would take for him to lash out at them.

"Efram!" Jody called out. The young officer came across the squad room floor. "Please take this man's statement. He claims Castiel is responsible for more than one murder. Riley and I are going to see if we can apprehend him."

While the police were racing to the park, Castiel was sitting cross-legged at the spot where Gail had died, waiting to be arrested. Now that he had succeeded in helping to swing the vote in Heaven, his next act of atonement would be to achieve closure for Gail's family.

Unbeknownst to Castiel, his Father had orchestrated all of the events that were about to unfold. God had magnanimously decided to cross Temperance off the list of Virtues, reasoning that since Angels didn't partake in Earthly pleasures, that quality would be difficult to demonstrate. But, like Raphael, God was very interested to see how Castiel would react if he were to be put in jail and on trial by humans. Would he lash out violently, or would he bow his head, instead?

There was a bright white flash, and Cas looked up at the sky, startled. Was it a storm? But the flash was not repeated, and the weather remained dry. God had reached down and removed all of Castiel's Angelic powers from him. The test would be rendered useless if his Son could merely wink himself out of jail.

A few minutes later, Jody and Riley came upon him, and the Sheriff informed Castiel he was under arrest for murder. He nodded, rising slowly to his feet. Riley frisked Cas as Jody read him his rights, but he was unarmed, of course. Cas had left his blade with Gabriel, for safekeeping. He would have no use for it where he was going.

When Jody told Cas that he had the right to remain silent, he shook his head. "I will tell you anything you need to know," he said.

So, unable to help herself, Jody said, "Did you kill Gail?"

"I loved her with all my heart," Cas replied. "She died, right here."

Jody and Riley exchanged glances. Was he confessing to Frank's sister's murder? But that wasn't exactly what he'd said, was it? Was Cas insane? Did he feel guilty?

He was merely staring at them now, docile, as Riley cuffed his hands behind his back. And as they took Cas away, he began to understand what his Father had in mind, and incredibly, he smiled. That enraged Jody, and she gave him a hard shove. Cas tripped, and fell to his knees.

"You saw nothing," Jody said to Riley, and the young cop nodded quickly, grabbing Cas by the arm and yanking the prisoner to his feet. Riley understood how Jody felt. They had all attended Dean Winchester's Christmas party together. Coincidentally, Riley had been there too, as the date of one of the girls who was taking Sam Winchester's night class. Frank's sister Gail had been a vivacious young woman with big brown eyes, and a wicked sense of humour. She and Frank and the Winchester brothers had bantered back and forth mercilessly, but it had been obvious to Riley that there was a great deal of affection there. Cas had been there too, doting on Gail, always by her side. But he had seemed like a bit of an outsider to Riley. The young officer couldn't remember seeing Cas eat, or drink, or dance. He couldn't even picture the guy interacting with anybody else at the party. He had just stuck by Gail, staring at her the whole time. Actually, now that Riley thought about it, it seemed creepy to him. And now, the guy was smiling. Cas was lucky just to have a couple of skinned knees.

As Castiel was being locked away at the jail in the station house and Jody was picking up the phone to call Frank with the news, Rowena was showing her new friend Patricia how to do some basic magic spells.

The ancient witch was still extremely angry about the fact that those men had come into her place of business and wiped out the coven she had spent years assembling, and she was angrier still that the group had included a woman. Rowena was used to men trying to oppress her at every turn. That was why she handpicked her male associates very carefully. But it never ceased to amaze her when a woman betrayed her. As far as the witch was concerned, they were all a sisterhood. Didn't they have enough problems with men, without turning on each other, too?

In retrospect, though, Rowena didn't really believe that Abigail had betrayed her; at least, not on purpose. Her protegee had been dating that man Bobby, but Rowena was convinced that Abby'd had no idea who and what Bobby was. The woman hadn't been experienced enough to recognize a Hunter when she saw one.

But Abigail had paid the price, and so had Barnabas, and the rest of them. Rowena had fled, of course. She was the Queen Bee, the one who would outlive them all. But if she was going to go after those Hunters, she would need help. Or at least, someone to throw under the proverbial bus, if a sacrificial lamb was needed.

"Do I put the bat's wing in before the wolfsbane?" Patricia inquired now, and Rowena leaned in closer to look at the contents of the bowl. "It depends on the sex of the person you're administering the potion to," Rowena told her. She pointed to the page of the spell book with one long red fingernail. "See?"

But instead of looking where Rowena was pointing, Patricia turned around to face her mentor. She kissed Rowena on the lips, surprising the witch. "I see YOU," Patricia said softly. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever met." She kissed Rowena again, and Rowena was surprised once more when she found herself kissing Patricia back. What the hell? She was an ancient being, but there were still a few things she had yet to experience.

The ingredients Patricia had been holding fell to the floor, the spell forgotten.

Paul was re-loading the camera, waiting for the ladies to change outfits. Kevin entered the studio, and his new husband smiled.

"Hey, Boo," Paul said, kissing Kevin on the cheek. "Give me about half an hour, and I'll be done. Me and the girls have one more layout to do."

"You'll never believe what Dean just told me," Kevin said breathlessly. "That guy Castiel was arrested for Gail's murder."

Paul's head snapped up. "What?!" he exclaimed. His husband filled him in on the vague details he'd received so far. Gail's boyfriend had told the cops that she was dead, but he couldn't, or wouldn't, say where her body was. He'd told Jody he didn't need a lawyer; he just wanted to be brought to trial as soon as possible so that he could confess to his crimes in open court, and receive his punishment. Jody'd told him it didn't work that way. He had to have a lawyer. "So she called in a Public Defender, and he's going to go talk to the guy. Frank's freaking out. He said if Jody wasn't the Sheriff, he would just go into that lockup with a gun, and save the taxpayers the cost of a trial."

Paul was somber. He could certainly understand how Frank felt, but: "I don't think Cas killed her, Kev," Paul said now. "Did you see the way he WAS with her? Did you see the way he looked at her? No, I don't believe that for a second."

Kevin was thoughtful now. His husband was a good judge of character. But, Castiel was just weird. Any way it turned out, it was too bad. He felt for Frank, and for his and Gail's parents. Kevin couldn't imagine how his own mom would take it if anything happened to him.

"Find out when the trial is," Paul said absently, as the models started to come out of the dressing room. "I think I want to go."

Kevin looked at him with a curious expression, but then he relented. Dean and Sam were very close friends with Frank, and Kevin and Paul felt like family to the men. Paul had a soft heart. He probably just wanted to be there for moral support. "OK, Paulie. I will," he said quietly, as Paul got back to work.


	13. Chapter 8 - Word Up

Chapter 8 - Word Up

Bob sat there across the table from the prisoner, shaking his head slowly. "Look, I want to help you, but you're going to have to help me, too. Whatever you tell me is confidential. Just between us. But, I need to know: Did you kill her, or not?"

Cas just sat there and looked at him for a moment. Finally, he said, "Do you mean to say that, whatever I tell you, you cannot tell anyone else?"

Bob nodded encouragingly. "That's right, Castiel." What a weird dude, the young Public Defender thought. He'd introduced himself to the prisoner when he'd first gotten here, using his full name and extending his hand for a shake. The man had looked at him blankly for a moment, and then he'd given a little nod, as if listening to a voice no one could hear. Then he shook with Bob, and introduced himself as Castiel. That was it. No last name.

There was another silence now, as Castiel appeared to be thinking it over. Then he said, "No. No, I did not kill Gail. I loved her. I asked her to be my wife."

Okie-dokie, Bob thought. Now, they were getting somewhere. "Well, that's good," he said heartily. "But you obviously know something you're not telling the cops, or you wouldn't be asking about confidentiality. Are you covering for someone else? Why did you tell the Sheriff that Gail died where you were arrested?"

"Because she did," Cas said, working his jaw. "And no, I am not 'covering for' someone else. If I thought that your justice would punish the one who did it, I would deliver him to you, quite happily."

Bob's forehead wrinkled. "What are you talking about? How am I supposed to defend you if you won't tell me what happened?"

"Defend me? I'm not asking you to defend me," Cas said. "I will plead guilty at the trial, and I will receive my punishment. The Sheriff told me that the penalty for murder in this state is death."

"That's only for premeditated murder," Bob said hastily. "First-degree. For second-degree, or manslaughter, the most severe penalty would probably be thirty years. Shorter, with good behaviour. But I'm confused, now. You told me you didn't kill her, and you said you're not covering for the guy who did it. So why the hell would you plead guilty, then?"

"To receive my punishment," Cas said again. He was looking at Bob as if it was the lawyer who was crazy. Bob made a notation on the legal pad in front of him: "Psych eval. ASAP."

"I will plead guilty to premeditated murder," Cas went on, as if talking to himself now. "I will tell them I asked her there for the express purpose of killing her. Then, if they do not believe me, I will tell them about the other people I've killed. There are quite a few."

Bob let out a frustrated breath. "OK, that's it. I came here to help you, and you're either screwing around with me, or you need mental help. Either way, if you're hell-bent on committing suicide, I'm not going to aid and abet you. We're pleading Not Guilty."

Cas sprang forward and grabbed Bob by the lapels of his suit. "You will do nothing!" he shouted. "I will take my punishment! It's what I deserve. Gail died because of me, and I will not live without her. Now that I am mortal, I will take the death penalty, and I will commend my spirit to God, to do with me as He sees fit. Now, get out!" He slammed Bob back down into his chair. Then he strode to the door of the interrogation room and pounded on the door. "Take me back to my cell," he said loudly. "We are done here."

Bob sat there stunned as two guards came to take Cas away. Jody was there too, and she looked at Bob with a curious expression.

"He needs to go for a psychiatric evaluation," the Public Defender said in a shaky voice. "I'll let you know once I'm able to set it up. And, Sheriff? Next time, you'd better leave him in the shackles."

Cas sat on the bunk in his cell with his head in his hands. He hadn't meant to scare that man. He knew that Bob was only attempting to do his job to the best of his ability. But Cas couldn't bear it any more. He needed to confess to his crimes, and he needed to be put to death. He knew that the attorney thought that he was insane, but he couldn't help what he had said. The man had said that what Cas uttered to him was confidential, and he'd felt an overwhelming need to tell the truth to someone. He might as well have taken his own blade to Gail by telling Jason where they were going to be, that day. He'd had no business courting her at all, not as the kind of individual that he had been when they had met. He only prayed that God the Father wouldn't hold his poor judgement against Gail this time.

God checked "Diligence" off the list of Virtues. He knew that his Son was sincere about wanting to atone for all of the murders he had committed while he had been left in charge of Heaven. Castiel knew that he was entirely mortal now, yet he was willing to stand up in court and confess to a crime he hadn't committed in order to give Gail's family closure, and to receive his execution. God was aware that His Son was stubborn enough to persist until the humans would have no choice but to put him to death. It wasn't as if that particular scenario was without precedent. Castiel had pled guilty at the tribunal to try to save Gail. But this time, as it had been back then, it was too late. Or, was it? God hadn't decided yet. Castiel had one Virtue left to demonstrate, and it was going to be the hardest one of them all.

The days dragged on into weeks, which dragged on into months. If Castiel hadn't been crazy the day he had met the Public Defender for the first time, he certainly should be by now, the prisoner thought.

The day of his trial had finally dawned, and Cas was dressing in the suit that had been provided for him. It was astonishing how much ritual and ceremony was involved in these proceedings. In Biblical times, he would have been executed the moment he had been taken by the authorities, whether he had confessed to the offense or not. It was no wonder people became frustrated, wanting to take matters into their own hands. And in fact, Cas had heard the guards at the jail talking about Gail's brother Frank, who had threatened to bring a gun into the cellblock and render the trail moot, and for an instant, he had been jubilant. By all means, let him come. Let Frank come and exact justice for Gail's family. Cas would welcome him with open arms. The very thought that Frank wished to exact vengeance for the murder of the sister he loved had raised Castiel's esteem for him immeasurably. But then, his excitement faded away as he realized that he could not allow Frank to do that. As appealing and expeditious as that sort of justice would be, Castiel could not allow it. Because in human society, Gail's brother would then go to prison and be put on trial, himself. His life would be ruined, and he and Jody would never be able to marry. No, Castiel couldn't have that on his conscience. The weight of the guilt he felt for Gail's death was already sitting much too heavily on his shoulders.

But he needn't have been concerned, because Frank did not come. Jody was a police officer who "went by the book", as the expression went. Cas was given to understand that meant that she would bend over backwards to make sure that everything was done properly, and that Castiel received what the humans called "due process". He had asked Bob what that meant, the next time the Public Defender had come to see him. Apparently, Bob was also the sort of person who meant to ensure that Castiel received his "due process", because after Castiel's original outburst, Bob had returned, vowing not to give up on him. Bob had explained due process to him, and Castiel had been astonished. Here he was, in prison, eager to confess to the murder for which he had been arrested, and Bob was telling him that he wasn't allowed to do so? No; rather, he was going to be sent to a psychiatrist for tests, to see if he was insane. That was the way that Cas understood it, anyway. If the doctor determined that he WAS insane, there was no chance that he would receive the death penalty, Bob had said proudly. But even if Cas was to be judged to be of sound mind, Bob had more than a few ideas about how to defend Castiel. The investigators had searched the park, even dredged the lake, and they hadn't found Gail's body. If there was no body, how could they even prove that a murder had occurred at all? Castiel was overwrought over the disappearance of the woman he loved. Even if he wasn't clinically insane, that didn't mean that he couldn't be a little confused, maybe. Bob had a number of tricks up his sleeve; if he could sit a sympathetic jury, he might even be able to get an acquittal, by virtue of "reasonable doubt", he had told Castiel.

The entire time that Bob was speaking, Cas just sat there, astonished. He was the one who was to be tried for murder, yet this man didn't seem to care one iota about how Cas himself actually wanted to proceed. Was this what all Earth trials were like? If so, how was true justice ever achieved? Castiel was a self-confessed killer, who was fed and clothed, receiving every sort of care and consideration, while his poor, beloved Gail lay long dead, and her family and friends were suffering from grief and anger. It was so very, very wrong, in so many ways.

But it seemed as if he would be getting his due process anyway, whether he wanted it or not. Bob had informed Cas that he would be going for his psychiatric evaluation in a months' time. A month?! he had exclaimed. Yes, Bob had confirmed. The Christmas holidays were coming up soon, and many of the court-appointed psychiatrists were either booked solid, or out of town. But that was okay, because the trial couldn't possibly start for a few more months anyway, due to the waiting list on the court docket.

Then Bob was gone, and Cas sat miserably in his cell, on the verge of tears. Christmas. He remembered accompanying Gail to that Christmas party at her friend Dean's house. That was the first and only event of its kind that he and Gail had attended together, and Castiel had been overwhelmed by the number of humans there, and the noise and the boisterousness of the celebration. He had initially thought that he would rather have Gail all to himself, but then when he had realized how much she was enjoying herself, Cas had relented. He could have her to himself on many other occasions. Others obviously enjoyed her company, too. He had felt inexplicably proud of that fact, even though none of the credit for it belonged to him, of course. Cas had also realized that to some of the attendees, he must seem like an odd individual. He neither ate nor drank, and he knew his speech was stilted and formal, much of the time. He had been planning to ask Gail for her opinions on some of the modern slang expressions, to see which ones she favoured. But he'd thought that they would have many years ahead of them for her to teach him more about human ways. Now, Christmas was coming, and her family and friends would be without her, thanks to him. And what would Castiel be doing? Eating turkey, and waiting for his psychiatric evaluation.

He called for a guard, advising that he would like to make a phone call.

"Look, I have no idea why you called me," Dean said to Castiel as he glared at the prisoner from the other side of the table. "The only reason I came here, the ONLY reason, is to ask you: Did you kill Gail?"

Cas was confused now. Bob had told him not to say anything to anyone, not until his psychiatric evaluation. "I'm not supposed to say," he replied hesitantly.

"You just did, you son of a bitch," Dean said through clenched teeth. "That's not something an innocent person would say. An innocent man would be hopping up and down on this table, shouting that he was innocent. Instead, you've got some hotshot lawyer, trying to get you off. Oh, well. That's OK. Go ahead and pretend you're crazy, if you want. But, we know better. Me and Sammy and Frank used to hang around with you. You remember Frank, right? Gail's brother? You're damn lucky they have those metal detectors at the courthouse, by the way. Actually, you're damn lucky that Jody warned him if he came within a mile of this place, she was gonna have him arrested, just on general principles. But, don't you worry. We're not going to let Frank go to jail. Not over a cowardly douchebag like you."

Dean sat back in his chair, trying to catch his breath after his angry rant. He should just stand up and walk out of here, right now. But, he was still curious: "Why did you call me?"

Cas sighed. "I wanted you to pass a message along to Gail's family for me," he said morosely, as Dean stared at him incredulously. "Please tell them I loved Gail with all my heart. Please tell them that I hope the Almighty Father will allow us all to be together again, once I receive my punishment."

"Is that a threat? Are you threatening them? 'Cause if you are, you and I are gonna have a problem," Dean growled. "Gail was my friend, too."

Cas smiled reflexively. It was wonderful to see and hear how many people loved Gail. But Dean's expression darkened even more, if such a thing was possible. "You ARE nuts," the elder Winchester said dazedly. "Either that, or..." He reached into his pocket, and Cas's heart sped up excitedly for a moment. Maybe Dean had a weapon. Maybe Dean was finally going to put him out of his misery.

But Dean had been frisked before he'd been let into the visitors' room, of course, and there was no way he would have brought a weapon, anyway. He and his wife had a baby, and he didn't intend to go to jail, either.

What he brought out was a vial of Holy water, and he uncorked it and splashed it in Cas's face. Then, he waited expectantly. Dean didn't know why he didn't think of this before. They'd never seen the guy eat or drink, and he acted like he wasn't even human. Demon, maybe?

Cas sputtered, but then he smiled again, licking the water from his lips. "Why are you dousing me with Holy water?" he asked Dean, bemused.

Dean stared at him. The guy wasn't snarling or writhing, and the skin wasn't burning off his face. Castiel was smiling gently, looking like he was enjoying the experience.

"What ARE you?" he asked Cas. "If you're not a Demon, what the hell ARE you?"

Oh. Cas understood, now. "You know about Demons?" he said, surprised. As Dean nodded, Cas decided to take a risk: "So, does that mean that you believe in Angels, as well?"

So Cas told Dean as much of the truth as he thought would be prudent, and eventually, Dean was convinced. Castiel was the way he was because he was an Angel of the Lord. Well, that sure explained a lot of things, didn't it? Like why he didn't eat or drink, and why he didn't seem to understand half of the stuff Gail's friends talked about. And how he'd known that was Holy water that Dean had splashed in his face. In a rare moment of humour, Cas had told Dean that if he'd been able to swallow any, he would probably have been able to tell him which person of the cloth had blessed it.

And that had been it. As soon as Dean had become convinced that Cas was an Angel, he didn't ask him any more questions about Gail's murder. There was no way an Angel of the Lord murdered Frank's sister. No way. But, he did have some advice for Cas.

"Don't tell the shrink you're an Angel," Dean told him.

"The...'shrink'? I don't understand that reference," Cas said, puzzled, and for a moment, the men looked at each other as if they recalled a different time and place where Castiel might have said the same thing to Dean. But the moment passed, and Dean let out a breath.

"The psychiatrist," he tried again. "Don't tell the psychiatrist you're an Angel, or he'll tell your lawyer you're nuts. You didn't tell your lawyer that, did you?"

"No, I didn't, Dean," Cas declared. "But even if I had, he wouldn't be allowed to tell anyone. It's called 'attorney-client confidentiality'," he added proudly.

Dean stared at Cas. The guy had no idea how he came across. Hopefully, his lawyer knew his stuff, because they were gonna crucify Cas in court, otherwise. But now, it occurred to Dean to ask: "If you're an Angel, how come you're still here in jail? Why don't you just - " he waved his hand - "poof?"

Cas smiled again. Boy, his lawyer was going to have to tell him to stop doing that. Men who were on trial for murdering women shouldn't be sitting in court, grinning. "I'm so glad you asked, Dean," Cas said, seemingly oblivious to all of that. "It's because I need to stay here, and take my punishment. Please, tell Gail's family that. I will plead guilty at the trial, and I will receive the death penalty. Then hopefully, because I have done the right thing, God the Father will be merciful, and allow Gail and I to be together, and to see you all again. Please deliver that message, Dean."

Aww, geez. Now Cas was looking at him with an expression that, in the correct timeline, would be his puppy dog look. There was no way this guy was a cold-blooded killer. No way.

Dean sighed, rising from his chair. "OK, I'll pass along the message." He walked over to the door of the visitors' room and knocked on it. Then he looked back at the prisoner, who was chained and shackled to the table. Ever since that first incident with Bob, the cops were taking no chances. "Cas?" Dean said to him.

"Yes, Dean?" the mortal Angel asked.

"Good luck, Cas," Dean said softly, and when the guards came to let him out of the room, Cas was smiling gently again.

Castiel's psychiatric evaluation came and went, and the doctor reported to Bob that, although Cas was obviously a bit of an odd duck, he hadn't tested in any way insane, either by the medical or legal definition. So, there went that strategy. But the instant everyone was gathered in the courtroom and the judge asked Bob for the defendant's plea, Cas stood up and said, "I am guilty."

Bob dropped the file he'd been holding onto the table. "Sidebar, Your Honour?" he said irritably. He and the prosecutor moved closer to the bench as the spectators murmured.

Frank was sitting beside Dean in the front row behind the prosecutors' table. "See? I told you," Dean said softly to Gail's brother. Frank was frowning, staring intently at Cas. He didn't know what the hell to think, any more. Frank trusted his friend and business partner, so he believed that Dean believed that Cas was an Angel of the Lord. But even if Frank drank the Kool-Aid and believed it too, where did that leave him, exactly? With a missing and presumed-dead sister, a mother who was so devastated that she couldn't even bring herself to come to the courtroom, and a father who'd told his son that he had better not go, or Jim was going to strangle Cas with his bare hands. Frank had felt the same way; in fact, a very large part of him still did, Angel or no Angel. But he'd had to come, if for no other reason than just to see what the guy had to say for himself. Dean had said that Cas was going to plead guilty. Could they at least get him to confess to what he'd done with Gail's body? Could Frank and his parents at least bury her then, and get closure on this whole, sickening, heartbreaking mess, then?

There was one other thing that Dean had shared with Frank: Dean didn't believe for a second that Cas had actually killed Gail. The guy was an Angel, for God's sake. Pun definitely intended. If Frank was prepared to believe that Cas was an Angel, then how could be believe that Cas had murdered his sister? Dean had argued.

Frank had been wrestling with that concept. Dean had a very good point. But Gail hadn't been Dean's sister, she had been Frank's, and Frank wanted...what? What did he want? Well, he wanted his sister back, that was what he wanted. But if he couldn't have that, he wanted his pound of flesh. He didn't pretend to understand all that religious gobbledy-gook that Dean had told him Cas had said. Their family had never been religious, really, and even if they had been, the stuff about God was way above Frank's pay grade. But, punishment? Now, THAT was a concept he could get behind.

Even though Cas didn't have any Angelic powers right now, he could feel Frank's gaze boring into the back of his head. When Castiel and Bob had first entered into the courtroom, Cas's eyes had been drawn to Frank and Dean immediately. The defendant had been disappointed that they had been the only ones, though. He'd wanted all of Gail's family and friends to hear his confession. But today was just the first day of the trial. Despite Castiel's best efforts, Bob had insisted on mounting a defense for him. That meant that he had intended to call a few witnesses, including the psychiatrist who Cas had seen. That fact had confused Cas. Hadn't Bob told him that whatever he told these professionals was confidential? Then, how could Dr. Bridgman testify to what they had spoken about? Bob had explained that if it was an evidentiary matter in a capital case, the psychiatrist was allowed to testify as to his own professional opinion whether the defendant was insane, or not. But there were differing degrees of insanity, too. Cas was not an unintelligent man, but he was completely at sea now. How did that work? Either you were insane, or you weren't. Castiel came from a very black and white background. In Biblical times, there had been no such things as due process, Public Defenders, or "not guilty by reason of insanity". A man was guilty of murder if he had murdered someone; it was as simple as that. And regardless of what his mental state might have been at the time, his execution would be swift, and likely brutal. Castiel liked Earth and humans now, but at times, he really missed the olden days.

Bob was talking to the judge now, as Frank sat fuming, and Cas stood stoically at the defendant's table.

"He's trying to commit suicide by jury, Your Honour," the Public Defender said earnestly.

"Or maybe he's just guilty," the DA said dryly.

Judge Curtis let out a frustrated breath. Why did these things always have to be so complicated? He was due to retire in less than a year from now, and every year he'd been on the bench trying capital cases, the lines between guilty and innocent got more and more blurred. "Suicide by jury", indeed. But he didn't want one of his last cases to go to a mistrial, so he looked at Bob and said, "What is your intention, here? Do you have a case to present?"

"Yes, I do, Judge Curtis. I intend to show that my client is so distraught about losing the woman he loves that he wants to die. That's why he insists on pleading guilty."

"Awww," the DA said sarcastically. "If the poor little snowflake is upset she's dead, maybe he shouldn't have killed her."

"Last I looked, you don't have a dead body, or any evidence, for that matter," Bob said tartly. "I can't even believe you were able to bring this thing to trial. Must be nice to have connections."

"Settle down, gentlemen," the Judge said sternly. "How about this, then? If both of you, and the Defendant, will agree to waive the jury, we can just have a bench proceeding. It sounds like there isn't much testimony to present on either side, anyway. Let's move it along."

The opposing lawyers looked at each other. "It's fine by me if it's fine with the killer - I mean, your client," DA Davidson said sarcastically. He and Bob had faced off in court before, and the young Public Defender had won a couple of acquittals the DA thought he'd had no business winning. Davidson knew his case was weak, and completely circumstantial. But he was tired of losing to this guy, and the victim's brother had given him a picture of Gail, and a fairly impactful statement. The Sheriff who had arrested the defendant was prepared to testify to the admission he had made when she and the other officer had arrested him, and while it hadn't actually been a confession, per se, she was also going to testify to the fact that the man had smiled when he had made the admission. It had given the DA a chill, when he had heard that.

Bob had made a face at Davidson when the man had made his crack about Castiel, but inside, Bob was rejoicing. A bench trial was already a win, in his opinion. Judge Curtis was an old-school, no-nonsense jurist, who wouldn't be swayed by sketchy "evidence", like a jury might. The way that the judicial system currently worked, judges usually made an extra effort to give defendants the benefit of the doubt. Bob was certain that once Judge Curtis saw the lack of tangible evidence Davidson was going to present, the tide would turn in Castiel's favour.

And it would have, too, if the prosecution had not received a huge gift. The very next day, as Judge Curtis had been about to dismiss the case for lack of evidence, a man sauntered into the courtroom and announced that he wanted to testify for the prosecution.

And that was when Castiel went into a towering rage.

The Bailiff deposited Cas into a chair at the conference table of an anteroom which was located down the hall from the courtroom. The Defendant had become more docile once he had been removed from the room, but for a minute there, Hector had thought that they were going to have an actual murder happen, right there in the courtroom.

Cas had calmed down physically by the time Bob entered the anteroom, but inside, he was still fuming. But Bob was mad, too.

"Are you going to behave yourself, if I tell Hector he can leave us alone to talk?" Bob asked Cas dryly. "Or should I just bill you for a new suit jacket right now?"

Cas looked at him for a moment, and then his lips twitched. That was the sort of thing that Gail or Dean might have said to him, and the quip had disarmed him. "Yes, I'll behave myself," he told his lawyer.

Hector shrugged, taking the cuffs off of Castiel's wrists. "OK. Yell if you need me. I'll be right outside." He threw Cas a quick glare and then left the room.

As Cas massaged his wrists, Bob sat down heavily in the chair next to him. "You wanna tell me what that was all about?" he asked his client impatiently. "We were just about to get a dismissal. I'm sure we were. Then some guy comes in off the street, and suddenly, you're acting like a raving psycho!"

Cas pursed his lips tightly. Yes. "Some guy". There were a lot of epithets he could call Crowley right now, but that wouldn't be one of them.

"Look, Cas, now's not the time to clam up on me," Bob fretted. "It's obvious you know that man. If he's got something on you, you have to tell me, now."

Cas's mind was racing. Why was Crowley here? He could only be here to lie on the stand, and testify that Castiel had killed Gail. Could the King of Hell turn out to be the best ally that Cas could ever hope for?

He had been livid when his brother had strolled into the courtroom, acting as if he had any right to be there. There was Crowley, looking smug and self-satisfied, standing just a couple of feet away from the brother of the woman he had killed so callously, and no one there had any idea. Cas had wondered for a brief instant if Dean might recognize the King of Demons, but the elder Winchester gave no sign.

The blood had rushed to Cas's ears and he had leapt from his seat, shouting incoherently. Raging at the temerity of Crowley to walk into that courtroom. Smirking, while Gail's blood was on his hands. That was when the Bailiff had grabbed Cas from behind and slapped the cuffs on him, and the Judge had rapped his gavel sharply and instructed the Bailiff to remove Cas from the courtroom.

He was still enraged, of course, but now, Cas was considering the situation. If Crowley had come here to testify against him, that could only be a good thing, in this instance. He too had sensed that the Judge had been getting ready to dismiss the case. There wasn't really any hard evidence that a murder had even been committed. Not even poor Gail's body. The Almighty must have taken her away, Himself. But, as Bob had pointed out, if there was no body and no weapon recovered, how could her disappearance be tied to Cas? In fact, Bob was not willing to stipulate that there had even been a murder, in the first place. Maybe Gail had just run away. No, not run away; GONE away. She was a grown woman, wasn't she? Even though she was still in her parents' house, she was of age. Maybe she'd found her parents' rules to be a little too stifling. Frank's jaw had clenched so tightly when he'd said that, that Gail's brother thought he might have cracked a tooth. That was total b.s. Okay, maybe their mom was a little overprotective when it came to his younger sister. Frank had even commented on that himself, from time to time. But there was no way that Gail would have just up and left town by herself, not without telling anybody where she was going. No way.

Jody had taken the stand to testify to the circumstances surrounding Cas's arrest. What she'd said that Cas had said sounded very damning. But then Bob brought out a number of issues on cross-examination. Who was the man who had come into the station house that day, telling them where they could find Castiel, and making wild accusations about him? They didn't know, Jody admitted. When they'd tried to find the witness to interview him again, Raphael had seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth.

Fine. Great, Bob had said. So they had arrested Castiel based only on this mysterious person's say-so? Not exactly, Jody had said, frowning. But yes, they had gone there to talk to him, and to bring him to the station house for questioning. Had Jody read him his rights? Yes, of course she had. Then, Castiel had made the admission that Gail had died there, where they had found him. That was it? Bob had prompted. Was that all he had said? Jody had sighed. He had also said that he'd loved Gail. But, that had been it. Then Bob brought out the fact that Jody and the victim's brother were in a relationship, and then he'd sat down, having scored as many points as he possibly could.

Davidson had floundered after that. He had planned on calling Frank to the stand to sneak in some sympathy with a jury, but since that wasn't an option any more, he hadn't known where to go from there. Judge Curtis would probably put him in jail for contempt if he tried that, just for wasting the Court's time. Juries were much easier to manipulate.

So the DA had rested his case, such as it had been, figuring that he would be able to backdoor something incriminating when the psychiatrist took the stand. But Bob didn't end up calling Dr. Bridgman to the stand, because he didn't really need to. Besides, he'd known that the psychiatrist would testify that Castiel wasn't either clinically or legally insane. Why give Davidson an opportunity to make something out of that? Bob had been planning to use Dr. Bridgman's testimony to illustrate Castiel as a confused, heartbroken man, who had no more answers than the rest of them. Hadn't he told the psychiatrist that he was despondent over the death of the woman he loved? Well, that was obviously why he had said that he was guilty. After these proceedings were over, Bob would make sure that Castiel received the help he needed to get over his depression.

And that had pretty much been that. As Judge Curtis had been picking up his gavel, preparing to dismiss the proceedings and lambaste DA Davidson for wasting everyone's time, that man had walked into the courtroom, and the defendant had lost it.

Cas was still looking at his defense counsel. Why mince words? "Yes, I do know that man," he said calmly. "He is here to testify against me. He will say that I killed Gail."

Bob let out a breath. "WHY will he say that, Cas?" he said as patiently as he could. "Who is he?"

"He is my brother, and he will say it because it is the truth," Cas insisted.

For an instant, Bob contemplated murder, himself. "What do you mean?" he said angrily. "You said you DIDN'T do it!"

"I also said that I intended to plead guilty, and I also said that I did not want you to mount a defense," Cas pointed out. "Yet, here we are."

Bob glared at his client. This was what he got for being a Public Defender, he supposed. What he wouldn't give to be in private practice, making a tidy living defending wealthy, respectable clients. Instead, he got the weirdoes; the space cases. He sighed again. Sighs were an occupational hazard for Bob.

"I'll tell Judge Curtis you're sorry for your outburst. Then, I'll see if I can find out what your brother plans to say on the stand. What's his name?"

Cas eyed his attorney balefully. "It's whatever he says it is," he replied, somewhat nonsensically.

Of course. Of course it was. Bob was going to check his investment portfolio after this case was over. See if he couldn't skip a meal or two here or there so that he could sock away a little bit more for his retirement fund. If he had to do THIS for much longer, he would be as crazy as most of his clients.

When they were all reassembled in the courtroom, the DA said, "I call Alaistair Hudson to the stand."

Crowley sat down in the witness chair, and then he grinned widely as the clerk presented him with the Bible.

"Do you swear to tell the entire truth?" the clerk intoned, as the King of Hell placed his hand on the tome. "Oh, yes, indeed," Crowley said gleefully as Castiel glowered at him. But Cas had to keep himself under control now. Crowley was here to be his deliverance.

"What is your relationship to the defendant?" Davidson asked him.

"We are brothers," Crowley said calmly. Cas's bile rose, but so far, Crowley wasn't lying. The evidence was right there, in that Book that the clerk had just put away.

"So you would have no reason to lie about what you are about to testify to, then," the DA remarked.

Bob popped up from his chair. "Objection! That wasn't even a question!" he protested. "And besides, last time I looked, being someone's brother doesn't preclude them from lying!"

"I swore on the Bible, my good man," Crowley sniffed, affecting a tone of disdain. "Anyone who knows me knows how much that means to me."

Cas's hands had curled into fists. He was trying to take deep breaths, now. He had to stay cool, as the humans would say. He was so close now. Crowley liked to have his fun, but if Cas would just remain patient a little while longer, he would have what he had been seeking.

And, God ticked off the last Virtue: Patience. Except for Castiel's very brief outburst when Crowley had first arrived, which was perfectly understandable, His Son Abel was reigning himself in now as Cain sat smirking, touching the Bible and making his little jokes. But Crowley wasn't done yet.

"Sustained," Judge Curtis said in response to Bob's objection. "Let's hear what the witness has to say."

"Who killed Gail?" the DA asked Crowley, getting straight to the point.

Crowley smiled again, staring directly at Castiel. "I did," the King of Hell confessed.

Judge Curtis rapped his gavel furiously as several things happened at once. Frank jumped up from his seat. "Oh, come on! You've gotta be kidding me with this!" he shouted. Dean and Sam, who had joined the proceeding during the recess, grabbed Gail's brother by the arms in an effort to encourage him to sit down. Frank going to jail for contempt would be all they would need right now.

The prosecutor was staring at Crowley, open-mouthed. That wasn't what what they had discussed; not at all. Alaistair had informed the DA that he was here to make sure that the poor, unfortunate girl's killer received his just punishment. Sounded right to the prosecutor. But what the hell was the man trying to pull now?

Meanwhile, Bob was sitting back in his chair, trying not to smile. Look at the look on Davidson's face. He had been as smug as anything when Bob had asked him for a preview of Hudson's testimony. He was going to testify that his brother had murdered Gail, of course, Davidson had said. Alaistair had witnessed the act personally. Bob's heart had sunk, but he had told himself to wait and see. If all they had was Castiel's brother's word for it, as far as Bob was concerned, his testimony was useless. So he was the defendant's brother; so what? There were a ton of brothers who had fractious relationships, going all the way back to Cain and Abel, he'd thought, unaware of the extreme irony of his thinking. He may or may not even bother to cross-examine the man, depending on what he said.

But now, Castiel's brother was sitting there calmly, stating that he himself had killed the victim? This was unbelieveable! But even as Bob was smiling, Cas was frozen in shock. What?! Why was Crowley telling them the truth? Of all the lies that he had told over all of the millennia they had both existed, why now, and why this? Cas had thought that Crowley would practically be turning cartwheels and rubbing his hands together with glee at the opportunity to send Castiel to his execution. Cas was sure that Crowley knew that he was completely mortal right now; otherworldly beings could always tell, and the King of Hell knew more than he should about a myriad of things, anyway. He always had. He should be chomping at the bit to have a mortal Castiel put to death. Castiel would have been, had the situation been reversed. In fact, he would be shouldering the executioner aside, if given the chance to execute his brother. It would be only fair, since Crowley kept on killing him.

Judge Curtis finally achieved a modicum of order, after rapping the gavel a number of times. "I will see Counsel in my chambers," he said sternly, rising from his chair. "Let's go, gentlemen."

Hector had moved a little closer to the defendant, keeping a close eye on him in case he showed any signs of misbehaving, now that the Judge had left the room. But Cas just sat there, continuing to lock eyes with Crowley. Cas had disconnected now, trying to keep his emotions in check. What was Crowley's gambit? Why would he be attempting to exonerate Castiel? This made absolutely no sense to him. None.

Crowley's lips were twitching. He could see the little hamster wheels turning in Castiel's head. His poor little wounded, mortal, brother. Castiel had now given the term "mortal enemy" a whole new meaning, Crowley thought with jolly good humour. He glanced at the court reporter. Too bad he couldn't work some of these quips into his testimony.

"Why is that little twerp smirking?" Frank fumed.

"I'm completely confused now," Sam remarked.

"I think he's just trying to get Cas off the hook," Dean said. "He's his brother, isn't he?"

"Oh, right. So he's gonna confess to a murder and go to jail for a capital offense just to get his brother off?" Frank said skeptically.

"Why not? I would," Dean stated.

"Good to know," Sam quipped lightly.

"Nahhhh, there's something fishy going on, here," Frank said, his eyes narrowing. "Look at the way they're looking at each other. It looks like Cas is getting ready to - "

The Judge entered the courtroom abruptly, with the two attorneys trailing behind. "Continue with your case, Mr. Davidson," the jurist said in a clipped tone.

The prosecutor sighed. He wasn't actually sure if he wanted to ask his witness any more questions. But he was determined to get to the bottom of this: Was Alaistair just screwing around now, trying to create reasonable doubt for his brother? When the DA had first talked to him, he had insisted that he had personally seen Castiel kill Gail, and he'd claimed that he had proof.

"Mr. Hudson, did you, or did you not, tell me that you have video evidence of the murder?" the DA said with an edge to his voice.

"Yes, I did," Crowley confirmed.

"Then why did you lie just now, and say that YOU did it?" Davidson said, exasperated.

"Who says I lied?" Crowley said, his lips twitching again. "I said that I had video which showed the poor girl's murder, and I do." He reached into his pocket and produced a cell phone, which he extended to the attorney.

Davidson took it, staring at the witness suspiciously. Crowley was used to that particular look. "It's all queued up and ready to go," the King said, nodding encouragingly. The DA took the phone to the court clerk, who plugged the cell phone into her computer. She clicked a few times, and then the image came up on the screen.

"Dim the lights, please," the Judge asked her, and the clerk clicked twice more. Then the image from Crowley's cell phone was projected onto the wall at the side of the room where the jury would normally be seated.

And the image showed Crowley plunging a long blade into Gail's chest, as Castiel ran forward, shouting at him to stop.

Another outburst, another series of gavel raps. Judge Curtis was amazed that the little wooden instrument was still in one piece, considering how much punishment it had taken over the past couple of days.

"I will have order!" the Judge shouted. He looked at Hector. "Take the witness into custody," he instructed the Bailiff. "Have the defendant taken back to his cell, too. Take that cell phone to the Forensics Department, and have them do their thing. I want to know if that video is legitimate. Court will adjourn until we have an answer." The Judge rapped the gavel one more time, and finally, it split in two. He sat there looking at the pieces for a moment. Maybe somebody was trying to tell him something.

By the time the clerk bade everyone to rise, Judge Curtis had already risen from the bench himself, and left the courtroom.

Frank and Jody were sitting at Dean's kitchen table when Gail's brother got the call: court was being reconvened.

"Great," Frank said, swigging the rest of his coffee. He'd been on pins and needles during the past week, wondering how that farce of a trial was going to end. He knew that videos could be doctored and that people lied all the time, but his head spun with so many unanswered questions. Who the hell had actually killed Gail? Both of the brothers had sat there in court, saying they did it. Which of them was telling the truth?

Crowley and Castiel had been in separate cells on separate blocks in the prison, but when word came that the trial was going to reconvene, they were put in adjoining cells in the holding area, awaiting transportation to the courthouse.

The King of Hell could have winked them all over there, of course, even though Castiel couldn't, at the moment. That fact was not lost on Cas. The instant they were left alone, he asked his brother, "Why are you still here? Why did you come at all?"

"Why, to make sure you receive your sentence, Castiel," Crowley replied calmly.

Cas was completely confused now, and more than a little angry. "Then why did you tell them that YOU killed her?!" he exclaimed. "If they believe that, I will be exonerated!"

"Exactly," Crowley said, smirking. "If they put you to death while you're mortal, your suffering will end. But if you're set free, you have to live with that guilt you're carrying around in your Angelic bosom for the rest of your existence. And if our Father restores you to your former status, which I have no doubt that He will, that'll be a long, long time."

Cas stared at his brother, astonished. Crowley was right. The King of Hell's action hadn't been designed to end Castiel's torment at all, but to prolong it indefinitely. Finally, he said, "If they set me free, I'll just commit suicide, then."

Crowley was amused. "Fine. Do that. Then you can join Jason in toiling away for me. Your ancient laws were never revised. Therefore, suicides automatically get sent to Hell. Your choice, Castiel."

"What do you mean, 'the laws were never revised'?" Cas asked the King, his eyes narrowing. What a strange thing to say.

But before Crowley could answer, assuming that he would have been inclined to do so, the guards came to take the men to the courtroom.

"In all the years I've been on the bench, I've never seen such a farce," Judge Curtis said, frowning deeply. He glared at the DA. "If I ever again adjudicate a hearing at which you are the prosecutor, Mr. Davidson, I will recuse myself. You know, just because you have relatives in high places, that doesn't mean that you can, or should, bring anything and everything to trial. There was a little thing we had back in my day. It was called 'evidence', and in this case, you had absolutely none. Not a scrap. I kept waiting to see some. And then, finally, I did. I saw a video of the murder, which our Forensics Department tells me is one hundred percent legitimate. Not doctored at all. But that video exonerates the Defendant, and incriminates his own brother, your witness! If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that this whole thing was an elaborate prank. But guess what, Mr. Davidson? I'm not laughing. Maybe a week in lockup will convince you not to waste the Court's time in the future."

Then the Judge looked at Bob and Castiel. "The Defendant will rise," the Judge said, and both men stood up. Judge Curtis sighed. "I can only come to the conclusion that defense counsel was right," the Judge said. "If you are so despondent over that unfortunate woman's death that you confessed to a crime you didn't commit, then I strongly urge you to get some professional help. Confessing to a capital crime is a serious matter, and so is wasting the Court's time and resources." Then the Judge looked at Crowley, who was sitting in a chair beside the defendant's table, shackled and handcuffed. "Mr. Hudson will be taken back to the prison, to await his own trial," the Judge continued. Then, he looked at Frank. Gail's brother was sitting in the front row as he had for the entire proceeding, along with Jody, Dean, Sam, Paul and Kevin. The latter couple had intended to attend the trial earlier on, but they'd both come down with some kind of a virus. Paul was staring at Crowley. Why did he have the very strong feeling he'd seen that man somewhere before?

"My condolences to you and your family for your loss," Judge Curtis said to Frank now. "Regardless of how these types of proceedings turn out, we officers of the court sometimes lose sight of the fact that at the heart of every capital case there are people who loved the decedent, people who have to go on living their daily lives without the victim. I'm aware of your suffering, and I regret that it has had to occur." He picked up his new gavel and banged it once on the desktop. "This proceeding is over. The Defendant is free to go." Then the Judge got up and left the courtroom.

Castiel was morose. The Judge had been speaking to Frank, he knew, but his words also applied to Cas, more so than the man knew. Now Castiel had to go out there and live a meaningless existence, without the only person he had ever loved. Where would he go? What should he do?

Crowley was led past him, but Cas couldn't work up the energy to be enraged with his brother right now. After all, hadn't Castiel been the author of his own misfortune? He had gone about his existence the wrong way for much too long. Death wasn't to be his true punishment. His true punishment was life.

"Don't look so glum, Castiel," Crowley said to him. "I'm sure that our Father will see fit to release you. Eventually. He always has before, hasn't He? Things always turn out all right for you in the end, despite my best efforts."

"Hey, you tea-sucking son of a bitch," Frank called out to Crowley. "I'll see you at your trial."

"Do you think so?" Crowley said, raising an eyebrow. He didn't plan on being here that long. Once the lights winked out in the jailhouse tonight, so would the King. He had only chosen to remain this long to ensure that the trial reached its proper conclusion.

"Don't worry; I'm sure we'll all see each other again," Crowley said to Frank's group, "in one capacity, or another. Make sure you all behave yourselves, though, or you may find it's on the wrong end of the transaction."

He was led away, and as they all looked at each other and wondered what he'd meant by that, Cas looked at them sadly from across the room. If the circumstances had been different, he might have been able to walk over there and tell Frank how he felt. They had both loved Gail, and they had both lost her. Maybe Frank would put his arm around Cas's shoulders and invite him for a drink, so that they could commiserate about how miserable life was without her. Maybe he could bond with Gail's friends, and help them in their day-to-day endeavours. Would that help to show the Father how sorry Castiel truly was for everything he had done?

Frank looked over at Cas, and they made eye contact. Gail's brother supposed he should go over there, and show the guy a little compassion. He hadn't killed Gail, after all. His own brother had, for reasons that were a mystery to Frank. Cas looked so sad and alone, just standing there with his hands at his sides. Even his lawyer was gone. Bob had considered offering his hand to Cas to congratulate him, but in the end, the public defender had merely packed up his briefcase and left the courtroom.

Dean clapped a hand on Frank's shoulder. "Come on. Me and Sammy'll buy you breakfast," he said to his friend.

The six of them filed out of the courtroom, leaving a despondent Cas behind, without a second glance at him. He nodded to himself. Had he really expected otherwise?

Cas walked slowly out of the building. It was a bright, sunny day. The weather was completely incongruous to the way he felt. Had he not been mortal, the clouds would have grown dark, and a steady rain would be falling. But the sun was shining, birds were singing, and children were playing happily in the park across the street.

Cas walked over to the park and sat on a bench by the flower garden. Gail had liked roses. He was going to make a wreath out of the nicest ones and take it to the spot where he'd proposed to her, in a minute. And then...what? What would he do?

"Mommy, why is that man crying?" a little girl asked, pointing to the bench.

"What man?" her mother asked, puzzled. The bench her daughter was pointing to was empty.


	14. Chapter 9 - How Will I Know?

Chapter 9 - How Will I Know?

Cas reappeared on the forest floor at the base of Kilimanjaro a moment later, dazed and disoriented.

God was leaning against a tree, leafing through the Book of Life. Cas stared, his mouth agape. "I had forgotten how many secrets there are in here," He remarked. "No wonder that red file was so confidential. Did you know that there are instructions in here on how to bring people back from the dead?" He looked up from the Book at his Son. "But, look who I'm talking to," God continued, and now Cas could hear the sarcasm in his Father's voice. "Of course you knew that. You didn't climb that mountain just for the fresh air and exercise, did you, Castiel?"

"I won't do it," Cas said quickly. "You have my word. Please. Bring her back, and I will do anything You say. Please."

"Anything?" God said, closing the Book with a snap. "Will you take care of that little matter on the mountain, as you should have done?"

"Yes," Cas said without hesitation. "If that is Your Will. If that is what must be done, then I will do it."

"There you go," God said to Death, who suddenly appeared beside Him. Death was expressionless, but he felt suspicion. Castiel appeared to be falling in line, but the Angel had a storied reputation of saying one thing, and then doing quite another.

Cas's heart was beating a mile a minute as his Father continued to stare at him. Perhaps God was thinking the same thing. But his Son knew the consequences for lying to the Almighty. What he had just gone through would seem like a gentle caress compared to what God would do to him if he didn't keep his word this time. This one was going to hurt Cas worse than any of the others, but he had no choice but to do it, because it was God's Will.

"You have five minutes," God said. He waved His hand, and Gail appeared. Then God waved His hand again, and he and Death were gone.

Cas rushed to his wife, taking her in his arms. Five minutes? He kissed her face, again and again. Five minutes. He held her tightly. She still hadn't spoken. Did she have any idea what was going on? But they only had five minutes, and when Castiel followed through on the promise he'd made to their Father, Gail might decide that she never wanted to see Cas again. Five minutes. He only had five minutes to shower her with his love.

"Cas, you're squishing me," she protested. "What's going on? Where's God? Where are Sam and Dean?"

He took her hands in his. "We only have a couple of minutes left," he told her. "How much do you remember?"

Gail was confused. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?"

"I don't have time to explain," Cas said, distressed. "I have to tell you something: What I am about to do on that mountain is God's Will. I am not doing it because I want to. I am doing it because our Father requires me to do it. If I renege on my promise, the consequences will be catastrophic. I need you to remember that, and to remember that I love you. Please. Remember that I love you, and I love our friends. No; our brothers."

Gail had no idea what her husband was babbling about, but she was really scared, now. Cas had tears in his eyes, and he was squeezing her hands so tightly that he was almost hurting her. "What are you going to do, Cas?" she said in a trembling voice.

But their five minutes were up, and the couple suddenly disappeared from the forest floor.

Oh, geez. Gail was getting scared now. Sam was going to bite her in a second, if she didn't do something. She had no powers here on this stupid mountain. So she did the only thing she could do: she lifted up her head and screamed, calling for help from Cas and Dean.

The two of them came running a minute later, and Gail felt herself being wrenched out of Sam's grasp. Cas was pulling her away from him. "Are you all right?" Cas asked frantically. "Did he hurt you?"

As Gail was assuring Cas that she was okay, Dean was fighting to restrain his brother. "Sam! Sammy!" he exclaimed. Holy crap.

"Tie me up," Sam was saying through gritted teeth. "Restrain me. Please."

Cas let go of Gail and rushed to help Dean. The two men seized Sam by the arms and hauled him to his feet. Sam was struggling mightily now, even as he was imploring them to restrain him. Sam was fighting with himself just as much as he was fighting with his brother and his best friend. He was hungry. He was scared. He was ravenous. He was glad that Gail had screamed when she did. But the blood was running so hot in his veins right now...

"Please go into Dean's backpack, and get out the climbing rope," Cas said to Gail. He and Dean muscled Sam over to a tree at the edge of the path as Gail ran over to Dean's backpack. She rummaged through it, got the rope, and ran over to the men.

They lashed Sam to the tree with the rope. "Tie me tighter," Sam told them, still struggling. They pulled tighter on the line, until he was secure.

Dean stood back, looking at his brother. Wow. That had escalated quickly.

Cas looked at Gail. "Remember what I said, my love. Please," he said, agonized. Then he glanced at Dean. If Cas waited any longer, he was going to lose his nerve. It was God's Will, he reminded himself. He had made the promise. If he reneged, the consequences would be catastrophic.

He took the silver Angel blade out of his pocket, advancing on Sam.

"Cas, what the hell?!" Dean exclaimed angrily.

"No. No!" Gail screamed. She ran after Cas, yanking on his blade arm. He stopped for an instant, then shook her off and strode forward. "Thy Will be done," Cas said, and he stabbed Sam in the heart with the blade, killing him instantly.

The three of them stood there for what seemed like an eternity, frozen in shock at what Cas had just done. Finally, the Angel stepped back, regarding Sam as the younger Winchester's head drooped forward. The blood was gushing from his chest. Cas had made sure to pierce the aorta, ensuring that Sam's death would be as quick and merciful as possible.

Dean's paralysis broke, and he rushed forward, grabbing the blade out of Cas's hand. For one heart-stopping moment, Gail thought that Dean was going to stab Cas with it, but the elder Winchester hurried over to where Sam was, and used the blade to cut the ropes that bound his brother. Sam crumpled to the ground and Dean dropped the blade, falling to his knees beside his little brother. He checked Sam for any signs of life, but his efforts were futile.

Dean gathered Sam up in his arms, cradling his brother's head to his own chest. He looked up at Cas. "You goddamn son of a bitch," Dean said through clenched teeth. "You goddamn son of a bitch!"

Then Dean rocked Sam, like he used to do when his brother was a baby, fussing in his cradle. Back before the two of them had known anything about monsters, or Demons. Or Angels.

Dean was sobbing now, and so was Cas. But Gail wasn't. No, Gail wasn't crying at all. She was in a white-hot rage. She looked up at the sky. "That's enough!" she shouted. "What the hell is the matter with you? Where the hell do you get off, treating us all like this? Stop it. Just...stop. How can you do this to us, after everything we've suffered? And, for what? Just so you can demonstrate your mastery over all of us? Well, so what? Where have you been, all this time? There were so many times when we could have used your help. So many times. And now here you come, out of the blue. Why? Just to mess with us?"

God appeared suddenly. "It's not 'out of the blue'," he said coolly, "and you know that. There are plenty of pages in that Book left to come, my Daughter, and we're going to keep on doing this until you both get it right. The last time, Castiel refused. He said he wouldn't put you through it again. When he used the Appendix page that Death gave him, he did his utmost to shake you. But no matter what he tried to do, there you were. So, he finally had to give in to the inevitable. Now, how about you?"

"Why? What do you mean?" Gail asked the Almighty angrily.

"You know exactly what I mean," God insisted. "You have the temerity, the absolute and utter gall, to stand there and act all innocent with Me?"

Gail was still genuinely confused. But she was also getting a tickle in her brain now, an inkling that she sort of did know what he was referring to.

"Fine," God sighed. "You will have your opportunity, just as Castiel had his. We will meet back here, once you have righted your own wrongs. Now, go."

God put one hand on Gail's head and the other on Cas's, and the Angels were gone.

"What made me think that I had the right to anything? Much less anything as perfect as your love?" Cas was saying. But his voice was muffled, because he'd wrapped her up so tightly in the damn blanket.

Gail began to squirm, and Cas gasped. She was still alive? How could that be?

"Cas, let me go. You're squishing me," Gail told him.

He unwrapped the blanket, checking her wounds. She still had them, and her chest was bleeding. But Crowley had missed her heart with his blade. He had missed her heart! Gail was still alive!

"What the hell was THAT all about?" Gail asked Castiel, as he put his hand on her chest, healing her wounds. She watched as he did it. Now that she knew he was an Angel, the sight wasn't as shocking as it would have been if she hadn't known, of course. But it was no less wondrous.

When she was completely healed, Gail cast the blanket aside. "What do you mean, 'perfect'?" she said to him, as if continuing a conversation they'd already been having. "You've actually MET me, right? Cas, there's nothing perfect about us, and our lives. Nothing. I waited for you all my life, and then you finally showed up." Cas's lips twitched. She had no idea. "All of her life", indeed. She was so cute. He'd waited untold millennia for her. But then Cas's smile faded as Gail continued, "And then, when you did show up, you told me you loved me, but then you left, and you didn't come back."

"I'm so sorry, Gail. I should not have done that," Cas said to her. "I was struggling with a lot of things at that time. I thought that loving you, and humans, was a Sin. That's what I had been indoctrinated to believe. But once I met you, I came to realize that you were the only one, the only thing, that mattered to me. That's why I came back. That's why I resigned my post in Heaven. To be with you. To love you, as you deserve."

"And to nearly get me killed. Don't forget about that part," she said tartly, and Cas winced. She wasn't wrong, though. "I will protect you," he said, frowning. "I will never leave your side."

"No, Cas," Gail said to him. "No. I can't live like that." She looked down at the ring box, which was laying on the ground where Cas had dropped it, when Hakeem had shown up. "I love you too, Cas, but I can't marry you."

Cas could feel his vessel's heart breaking, but he understood it from her point of view. Why should she be willing to become a target for his many enemies? He just needed to be grateful that she was still alive. "Can we still see each other, at least?" he asked her.

"I guess so," Gail responded hesitantly. "But, for now, can you just take me home? I've lost my appetite. As it is, I'm going to have to hide these bloody clothes from my mom. She'll freak out if she sees me like this. Too bad I didn't have a change of clothes with me."

"I'll call Gabriel," Cas said, his expression brightening. "He can bring you some new clothing." He called the Archangel on their frequency, briefly explaining what had happened here.

Gabriel showed up a few minutes later, handing Gail a plain blue top and a new pair of jeans. He looked at her ring hand, then glanced at his Brother with a puzzled expression. Cas gave him a slight shake of the head.

"Go ahead and change, Penguin," Gabe said affably, using the nickname he'd decided to give her. "Cas and I will turn around."

The men turned their backs on Gail as she took off her bloody top. "What the hell, Cas?" Gabriel said over their frequency. "I thought you were going to propose!" "I did," Cas answered sadly. "But, Hakeem showed up, and then Crowley attacked her. She then decided she didn't want to be the wife of the most hated Angel in existence."

"OK, you can turn around, now," Gail said to the men.

"OK, here's what's gonna happen," Gabe said with a frown. He looked at Cas. "You're going to go up to Heaven, and wait for me there." Then he looked at Gail. "You're going to come with me for a drink, and a little chat." He snapped his fingers, and the bloody clothes Gail had been holding disappeared, along with all of the items Cas had brought for the picnic. Except for the ring box, that was. Cas had slipped that back into his pocket.

Gabriel grabbed Gail by the hand and winked her out of there, without another word. He brought her to the Rogue Angel, to a dark corner table. He snapped his fingers again, and drinks appeared on the table in front of them. Gabe wasn't in the mood to screw around, doing everything the human way.

"I've been called many things," he said to Gail, without preliminary. "If people are being charitable, they call me eccentric, or a rascal. If not, I'm a drunk. A clown. A Lothario. And, you know what? I'm all of those things. I always have been. I haven't changed in thousands and thousands of years. Why should I? I like the way I am. But because I am the way I am, I've never had any real responsibility in Heaven. I let guys like Cas do all the heavy lifting. But I think it's about time I helped my Brother out. I'll never change, Gail, but Cas really does want to change. He's got all those enemies for a reason, but he doesn't want to be that guy anymore."

"I don't know anything about him, Gabriel," Gail fretted. She took a big sip of her drink, and then she took another. Gabe wiggled his little finger, and another full glass appeared in front of her.

"Drink up; there's plenty more where that came from," Gabriel said as Gail's lips twitched. "How do you think I get so many beautiful women to go to bed with me?" he added, waggling an eyebrow at her.

Gail laughed briefly, but then she became reflective. "I think my problem is that I don't know anything about anything," she said in a subdued tone. "I've lived at home with my parents all my life, and my mom is really overprotective. I think I need to get out there, and experience more of life. At least get my own place. But I really don't have much money. I work part-time at the library at Sam's university, but that's it. I'm really not qualified to do anything else."

"You're a librarian? Dammit!" Gabe said softly, smirking. "I need a librarian, to get a Bingo." His hand covered hers on the tabletop. "Maybe I could be one of those life experiences."

Gail eyed him suspiciously. Was he joking, or not? It was hard to tell. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass," she said lightly. "I think you're just a little TOO experienced for me. I've never actually...Whoops. I didn't mean to say that," she stammered, embarrassed.

"You mean - you and Cas didn't...But you've been dating for a year!" Gabriel exclaimed, amazed. Wow. No wonder Cas was trying to put a ring on it, as the human expression went. His Brother was the type of guy who thought that sex out of wedlock was a Sin, and Gail was obviously too innocent to know the difference. Double dammit. If he had been a less honourable man, Gabe could do a lot with that situation. But Cas was his Brother, and the poor guy was gonna be heartbroken for a while as it was. Gabriel was going to tell him to hang onto that ring, though. The game wasn't over until it was over.

Gabriel snapped his fingers again, and a satchel appeared on the table beside their drinks. "What's this?" she asked him curiously.

"Your freedom," the Archangel told her. "Take it, get your own place, and do some travelling. Have some of those experiences. Travel. Write. Do whatever you want. I don't think any of Cas's enemies will bother to come after you if you two kids stay apart for a while. Then, if you feel like you want to see him again, all you have to do is pray to him, by name." Another eyebrow waggle. "Or, you could pray to me. My Brotherly loyalty only goes so far."

Once again, Gail couldn't tell if he was joking about that last part, or not. But whether he was or whether he wasn't, that really didn't matter. There was no way. He was nice to her, and his boyish charm was undeniable. But it was Cas who she loved, despite everything. She just didn't feel like she could be with Cas right now.

Gail peeked into the satchel, and then she looked at Gabriel, wide-eyed. "How much money is in here?" she asked him in a hushed voice.

"About half a mil," Gabriel said casually, taking a sip from his drink. "Freedom don't come cheap, Penguin."

Gail smiled. "Thank you for being so good to me," she said to the Archangel.

He waved his hand in dismissal of her gratitude, even though he liked to hear it. And, quite frankly, he'd expected to hear it. "De nada. Now, let's finish our drinks, and I'll escort you home."

As God watched the two of them together, he wondered idly if it was Gail and Gabriel who should have fallen in love. In many ways, they were an excellent match. Gabe was attracted to innocence, but he also needed a woman who would give him a bit of a challenge. Gail needed a strong man, who was also gentlemanly and kind. If God waved His little finger right now, the pair would be kissing within minutes, and with Gabriel's prodigious track record, Gail probably wouldn't stand a chance. But God didn't want to be too heavy-handed about it, because Gabriel was behaving honourably, right now. The Almighty had sent Gail back here for a reason. She'd had the audacity to question Him and His methods, telling Him that HE was the one who was in the wrong. Where had Gail been, when God had made the world? At least Castiel had been there from the very Beginning. And, yes, Gail had seen her share of heartaches and torments as Castiel's one true mate, but she had yet to learn the same lessons that Castiel had, about obeying the one true Almighty God. But, that was all right. When the situation warranted, God could be a very effective teacher. Gail had been much too sheltered. Now, she was going to find out what it was like to have to make the hard choices. By the time they all reconvened on Kilimanjaro, she would be as docile as a lamb.

Rowena was having a modicum of success rebuilding her coven. It was a slow and laborious process, because the selection process was dual. Sort of like a marriage, really. She had to determine whether her prospective protegees were both eager enough and skilled enough to practice dedication to the craft. And it didn't hurt if they were willing to use some less than lily-white methods to achieve their goals, either.

So, Rowena chose them, but they chose her, as well. There were some who dabbled in the black magic she was teaching, but once things became a little too real for the dilettantes, they quickly left her circle.

Felicia had joined Rowena and Patricia now. She and Lucifer were seeing a lot of each other, and she was completely dominated by him. She was at Satan's beck and call 24/7, doing anything she could to make him happy. At first, it had taken very little effort to do so. But once he had moved into her apartment and she had taught him how to use her computer, he had started to get a lot of ideas about how he wanted certain things to go. He spent countless hours looking up a variety of sexual acts and positions, and he was tiring her out, trying them all. So far it had just been the two of them, but he had already put her on notice that he would be wanting to include others, in the future. He'd also tried a few things out on her that had been very painful, but Felicia had borne it all stoically. Most of her bruising and broken skin was in areas that wouldn't be on display to the public, anyway.

Rowena had advertised in the newspaper for assistants for her new dress shop. Patricia had teased the ancient witch about that, saying that no one looked at newspapers any more. Nonetheless, Rowena was the boss, she had chided her assistant gently. Just because they had an intimate relationship didn't mean that Rowena wasn't in charge. In fact, Patricia had better get used to the fact that Rowena was going to be intimate with whoever she fancied, whenever she liked. She enjoyed what they did together, but the redhead was not willing to restrict herself to monogamy with anyone, and she didn't expect Patricia to, either.

Felicia had walked into the shop in response to the ad, after Lucifer had noticed it in the newspaper. As another ancient being, he favoured newspapers over computers for certain things, and job ads were one of them. But he hadn't been looking for a job for himself, of course. Satan didn't work; he gave others the privilege of toiling for him. Felicia already had a part-time job, but she wasn't bringing home enough money for his liking. So he'd sent her to the dress shop, where she'd met Rowena and Patricia, and began what would be her training in the art of black magic.

And, as sometimes happens in these types of situations, Lucifer grew restless and bored being cooped up in the apartment alone all day. So he started taking walks around the neighbourhood. But, he didn't "do" bright sunshine and lots of noise. Boy, was Earth ever noisy. Traffic, people, construction, people, airplanes, and people. He'd tried watching daytime TV, but it was just a bunch of humans yammering on about their stupid, piddly little problems. Talk, talk, talk. Yap, yap, yap. As soon as Lucifer took over, that would be one of his first official acts: executing all of those people. Just on general principles.

The Devil started spending a lot of his time in dark bars. Many people who frequented those sorts of places during the day were his sort of people, the people he would be recruiting for his Army, as soon as he could figure out how to go about that.

He stopped into the Texas Panhandle Saloon early one afternoon for a drink or five, just to see what the clientele would be like in a place like that. Probably boot-kicking music, and monosyllabic conversation. But there would be lots of his people there, Lucifer was sure.

Two drinks in, a shorter man with a neatly trimmed beard sat next to the Devil. He registered with some surprise that the newcomer had an expensive-looking black suit on. And when he spoke in a smooth English accent, Lucifer's astonishment grew.

Crowley was trying not to smirk at the expression on Lucifer's face. The King of Hell had been making one of his surprise inspections here on Earth. That was something he liked to do every now and then, to make sure that the Demons he had assigned topside were where they were supposed to be, and doing what they were supposed to be doing. Demons tended to get distracted by Earthly pleasures, but Crowley didn't necessarily mind that, provided they got their jobs done.

He had just come out of one of the safe houses when the King detected a presence in the area. Whoever it was, it was a major player. His sources had told him that Castiel and Gabriel and the other Upper Echelon were sticking pretty close to Heaven these days, and besides, this felt like one of his, not one of theirs. So he'd walked into that ridiculously-named bar out of sheer curiosity, and he'd been astonished to see who it was.

"Howdy, Pardner," Crowley said to Lucifer, his lips twitching. "Fancy a drink?"

Another woman stopped by the dress shop to apply for a job, but this one was a little less innocent than Felicia. In fact, she was a lot less innocent.

In His eagerness to prove His point, God had brought someone back from the dead, but she was no one that anyone on the side of Good would ever want to see. Nevertheless, he felt like her presence could be very instrumental in the future, if things played out the way He thought they might.

God was looking forward to seeing what would happen when the time came for Gail to demonstrate her vastly superior decision-making abilities, He thought sarcastically. The Almighty Lord had created many things in His many, many years of existence, but He had definitely perfected sarcasm. God was supposed to be above such things, but the Father of Everything had felt the hurt and anger that every parent feels when dealing with a defiant and ungrateful child. It was not Gail's place to question His Word; it was her place to obey it. That particular point was a lesson that Castiel and Gabriel also seemed to need refreshers on, from time to time. Castiel had just received his, when God had instructed him to sacrifice Sam Winchester. God had decided to give Gabriel a pass for now, in favour of correcting Gail, instead. How much sharper than a serpent's tooth was a thankless child, or words to that effect. Was that the Bible, or Shakespeare? God could no longer remember.

He watched as the tall, titian-haired woman walked into the dress shop. "I'm here to apply for the job," Abbadon said, smiling widely.

Castiel had been back in Heaven for a while now, and the longer he was there and not on Earth, the further he had begun to backslide. It had been months, and he hadn't heard one word from Gail. Not one. Gabriel had told Cas a while back that she was probably just going out there, having those life experiences she'd wanted to have. Cas supposed she was entitled to have them, but still, he'd been hurt that she hadn't prayed to him once in a while, at least to let him know she was thinking of him, too. She had told him she loved him. Had that been a lie?

Ignatius had allowed Raphael to come back into the fold, after the latter had claimed to have remorse for his previous attitude. But it was all just pretense, of course. Raphael had started to make some inroads with Castiel, attempting to persuade his Brother to return to his previously-held views. They should be annexing Earth, just as they had talked about for centuries. Just as they had planned to do, before Castiel's head had been turned by certain humans. But he had fallen in love, Castiel protested, and he had made some friends. Really? Well, where were they now? Raphael had asked Cas, and he'd had no answer, because of course, Raphael was right. They were all doing just fine without him. He had always been the outsider, the "weirdo". They had only been civil to him because he had been with Gail. And what ABOUT Gail? Cas didn't have The Eye, so he'd asked Gabriel to look for her, to make sure that she was all right. She was fine, Gabe had reported back. His theory had been proven correct. Once Cas and Gail had parted, none of Cas's enemies had bothered with her. At first, that logic had made Cas stay away. But as more and more time elapsed, he could only come to the sad conclusion that she had washed her hands of him.

Then the despondency had set in, followed almost immediately by the anger. He was an Angel of the Lord, God's right hand. How had he been allowed to forget about his true purpose? He had been completely misled, or perhaps he had misled himself. But at least he had not given in to temptation by forsaking his Brothers for Earth, and its empty promises.

"Ignatius insists that he will not re-open the vote for annexation, even though you were not there for it," Raphael was fuming. "Nor was Brother Jason. I then pointed out to him that the results were illegal, and do you know what he said to me? He said that his word was The Word! Can you imagine?"

Castiel was livid. "No. I cannot. He is not the Lord God! Obviously, the power of the Office has gone to his head. He must be educated."

Raphael was smiling now. The tide was turning; he could feel it. "So, does that mean you will stand with me on the matter of annexation?"

Castiel was thoughtful. Why not? Why shouldn't he? Still, he hesitated. "I will go to Earth on a reconnaissance mission, and when I return, we will convince Ignatius to re-open the vote." He opened his jacket to show Raphael his Angel blade. "One way, or the other."

The Archangel nodded. That would have to do, for now. Castiel was a stubborn man, sometimes. If you pushed him too far too quickly, he would push back, sometimes despite himself. It was the same with his Brother's brief love affair with Earth, and the humans. Jason had wanted to force the issue, by going after the woman. But Raphael had convinced Jason to play the long game instead, and that had been the right call. Now, Castiel had seen the true nature of those humans he'd thought were his friends. Even the female had deserted him now. Oh, yes. Castiel would lead Heaven's armies when the Angels took the Earth for their own, and it would be glorious.

Castiel appeared suddenly in the mens' room of the Rogue Angel, startling Gabriel. The Archangel didn't need to use that room for its usual purpose, of course, but he went in there every now and then to check his appearance, or to re-apply some cologne. He'd been engaged in both of those activities when Cas had popped in, seemingly without the fear of being seen.

"What are you doing here?" Gabriel said, frowning. "Does your BFF Raffy have other plans tonight?" Gabriel was well aware that his fellow Archangel had been metaphorically wooing Castiel ever since he'd gotten back to Heaven, and he didn't like it one bit. But there was really nothing he could do about it. Raphael was the only one who was doing the talking. Gabriel's little Penguin had apparently decided that Castiel came with too much baggage, and even though that made Gabe sad, he couldn't disagree with her, there. Gail was out there in the bar right now, in fact, with her brother and all of their friends. They were throwing her a Bon Voyage party. After getting her own place and setting it up the way she'd wanted, Gail was now going to do some of that travelling she'd spoken about. Was that why Castiel had chosen today to come here?

"Let's go, then," Gabriel said to his Brother, and the men walked out into the bar area.

The place was loud and raucous. Cas noticed Gail immediately. She was sitting at a table in the centre of the room, having drinks with her friends. There was a big group of people. Cas's heart was warm with the knowledge that she was loved, and that she hadn't been alone. But then, he felt a stab of resentment. She was here, happily going on with her life, not missing him at all. And there he had been in Heaven, completely miserable, feeling as if half of himself was missing. Contemplating the capture of the planet Earth and the vanquishing of every human who would not bow down to the Angels' will. And why? For revenge?

Cas walked over to Gail's table and she looked at him, open-mouthed. He still looked as handsome as ever, but there was an expression on his face that she'd never seen before.

"Hey, Cas," Frank said, with a bit of an edge to his voice. Gail had come home early from her picnic with Cas that day, rushed straight to her room, and closed and locked the door. Then he could hear her crying, inside. But when he'd knocked on the door, she'd told him to leave her alone.

Frank had shrugged. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened. Cas had dumped his sister. There was no way it had been the other way around. Gail got all googly-eyed whenever Cas's name was even mentioned. But, it was probably just as well; Cas was a weird guy, anyway. Frank, Sam and Dean always made running jokes about what was wrong with Cas. He was in the Mafia. He was a cross-dresser. He was a Demon. Dean joked that they should get some of that Holy water they had in the weapons cabinet at the office and "accidentally" spill it on the guy, just to see what happened. They'd all had a laugh about that. But after Gail had spent all night that day crying and then had come out of her room the next morning to have breakfast with the reddest, puffiest eyes Frank had ever seen, any mention of Cas was strictly verboten.

So they had all begun to forget about Gail's whacko boyfriend. But here he was again, messing with Frank's sister's head.

"May I talk to you for a moment?" Castiel said to Gail, ignoring Frank.

"Why don't you just leave her alone?" Frank said angrily. "Haven't you screwed with her enough?"

Gail put her hand on Frank's arm. "I appreciate that protective big-brother thing you're doing right now, but this is my business," she told him. She stood from her chair and she and Cas moved over to a corner of the bar.

The music and all of the conversation made it very loud in the room, so they had to stand close so that they could converse. But Cas didn't mind; not one bit.

"How have you been?" he asked her. And then, he said something kind of strange: "Are you happy?"

Gail let out a breath. "I'm OK, Cas. How are YOU?"

He frowned. "Why do you ask?"

Her heart sank. "You're mad because I haven't called you," she said, sighing. "I'm sorry, I just...it felt weird, thinking about praying to you. And I haven't really had any of those experiences I talked about having, yet. But, I WILL have them. I've got a ticket in my pocket for a cruise to the Caribbean, and I'm going alone. I'm terrified, but I have to make myself get out there and do things. I can't just sit at home all the time, afraid of life."

The Caribbean! Cas thought with alarm. Why did the sound of that scare him so much? "Don't go," he said to her, taking her hand. "Please. Don't go. If you want to travel, I can take you anywhere you want to go. I can take you to the furthest reaches of the globe. Please, Gail. I love you. Raphael will not infect me with his poison. The world is much too wondrous a place to destroy. Please, let me love you, Gail. We'll find a way."

She looked up at him. This was nuts. They couldn't keep doing this same thing, over and over again. Cas was weird, and he came with so much baggage. Now he was talking about some guy named Raphael, and destroying the world? What the hell? What did he want from her?

Gail let out another slow breath, more like a sigh. What did he want from her? Nothing she wasn't willing to give. "Life experiences"? Who was she kidding? Without Cas, she HAD no life.

She reached into her pocket with her free hand, gave his hand a squeeze with the other, and then tore up the ticket.


	15. Epilogue - Papa Don't Preach

EPILOGUE - PAPA DON'T PREACH

Dean stood back, looking at his brother. Wow. That had escalated quickly.

Cas looked at Gail. "Remember what I said, my love," he said with an agonized expression. Her eyes widened, because now, she did. The Father had left her with her memory of that conversation this time, so she remembered Cas talking about God's Will, and she also remembered God admonishing her after she'd freaked out, following Sam's murder. So He had sent them back there, to that other place, and she had chosen to stay away from Cas. Was that the right decision? Or, were they here on Kilimanjaro again because she had finally made the right one, in that bar?

Cas took the silver Angel blade out of his pocket, advancing on Sam. Oh, no. No, no, no. Wait: maybe she was supposed to stop him. Hadn't she just stopped him from destroying the world?

"NO!" Gail screamed. She ran forward, standing in front of Sam. "You can't, Cas! I won't let you," she told her husband.

"It's God's Will, Gail. I have no choice," he said pleadingly. "If I renege on my promise, the consequences will be catastrophic."

"I don't care," she insisted stubbornly. "You're not killing Sam. You'll have to kill me, first."

"Of course he's not killing Sam," Dean said. He was in total denial. Cas would never kill Sam. Gail was panicking for nothing.

But then, God and Death appeared out of nowhere, making Dean jump. He had no recollection of having been here before, or of having seen them here before.

"I see that you're just as bad as your husband at learning lessons," God said dryly.

Gail was shaking with fear and anger. "What was the point of all that? Didn't I make the right decision by stopping Cas from destroying the Earth?"

Cas looked at her sharply, but God was shaking His head. "Yes, that was ONE lesson. But life is comprised of many lessons, and many decisions. I brought you back here so that you could follow Castiel's example. He has finally realized that My Word is The Word. Now, stand out of his way, so that he can do My Will."

"Why does Sam have to die?" Gail asked him pleadingly.

God's jaw clenched, and for a brief moment, Gail could see Castiel clearly in His facial expression. The resemblance disarmed her. Unfortunately. "Because, he already did," the Almighty said, trying to hold onto his temper. Also like his Son. "Because, Dean Winchester wasn't supposed to make that crossroads deal to bring his brother back."

"Because the Winchesters have been a thorn in my side, a constant impediment to the natural order ever since that time," Death added in a dry, sandpapery voice that sounded as old as he was. "THAT is the wrong that has to be righted. That one. None else. And your loved ones will all continue to fall, until I receive Sam Winchester, as I should have done back then."

"But, You sent Cas to Hell to rescue Dean!" Gail sputtered, looking at God.

"Actually, I didn't," God said, his lips pursing tightly. "That was his own idea. Wasn't it, Castiel?" Cas hung his head, as Gail and the Winchesters looked at him in astonishment. "Killing Hitler was hardly the only time my Son has strayed from the script," God went on. "Why do you suppose he has received so many punishments? Now, it seems as though he is finally falling into line. Perhaps you would like to follow his example, before things get totally out of hand."

Gail looked from Cas to Dean, and then back at her husband again. "Is that true?" she asked him in a subdued tone.

"Yes," Cas admitted. He looked at Dean. "I saw you there, being subjected to unspeakable torments, and your screams hurt my ears. Then I saw you being forced to inflict those same torments on others, and I saw myself in you. But there was something in your eyes; the same spark of rebellion I had in my own. So I gripped you tightly and rose you from perdition, hoping that you would save me, from my own." Tears formed in Cas's eyes now. It was time that Sam and Dean learned the full truth. So, he went on: "I felt so badly that I did not kill Azazel back in the desert, when I had the chance. But, I had been ordered not to."

"WHAT?!" Sam and Dean exclaimed simultaneously.

"Awww, GEEZ!" Gail winced, putting her hand to her forehead. "Cas! You didn't have to tell them that!" She looked at the brothers. "We never meant for that to come out."

"You knew about it, too?" Dean shouted. "What the hell is wrong with you guys? We thought you were our friends!"

"Yeah, we are. But don't you dare blame Cas," Gail retorted. She gestured angrily at God and Death. "THESE guys keep telling him to do stuff, or NOT to do stuff, and any time he exercises any kind of independent thought, because what they're telling him to do is the WRONG thing to do, they bring the hammer down on him, hard!"

"So you are still maintaining that My Word is wrong?" God said quietly.

"Yes, I am," Gail said defiantly, and Cas moved towards her, quickly. "No, Gail, please," he entreated his wife. "Please, take it back. You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do, Cas," she insisted. They had been warned, but they had paid no heed.

"Then, you have made your decision," God said calmly. "Then I will have no choice but to bring it all down."

Suddenly, Lucifer appeared, and God handed him a page from the Book of Life. "Go ahead, My Son," the Almighty Father said to the fallen Angel. "Do what you will."

\- END OF BOOK 42 -


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